Pathology
by appalled.elf
Summary: Rhodri, a London-based psychologist, ends up in Middle-Earth. She decides to roll with it and opens a practice in Rivendell. This has a storyline to it. Romance crops up here and there. CW: adult themes, discusses death, mental illness, torture. Some foul language, but not too much.
1. End of the world

You would not believe some of the things I see here. You might have seen the movies, read all of Tolkien's books from cover to cover, but you'll never see the characters the way I do.

Realistically, even most of the other characters don't see the other characters like I do. But then, I'm their therapist, so I'm bound to come across things nobody else sees.

I had a reasonably normal life before I came here. Messed about at university a couple of handfuls of years and came out a psychologist. I had my own little practice in an inconspicuous suburb in northwest London, and saw all sorts, from royalty to the desperately poor. I even saved up enough to get myself a little apartment and a few pot plants. Weekly library trips, going for walks in the park, eating my greens and drinking plenty of water—I followed all the instructions people had given me for a prosperous little beige British life.

And then one Saturday morning in the middle of June, I woke up in the pitch dark. I could have sworn I'd gone to sleep with the curtains half-open, and thought I must have awoken at two in the morning, but I glanced at my watch (I'm one of those freaks who wears a watch to bed) and saw that it was 10am.

Newly awake and thoroughly discombobulated, I fumbled around, looking for my lamp.

_-flick- _nothing. _-flick-flick- _still nothing. I groaned and reached to turn on the much brighter ceiling light, which I knew I would pay for dearly over the next 15 seconds when it fried my unprepared retinas.

_-click-_ nothing. I tried again. _-click-click- _Still pitch-black.

"Grand, the power's out," I muttered as I switched on my phone's flashlight, and as I lifted it up, light fell on my curtains and I saw that they were indeed half open, revealing an almost absorbing blackness outside that poured in through the window like inverted sunlight.

"God, the _world's_ gone out." I tentatively crossed the room to go into the kitchen. I don't know why I didn't want to open the window in my bedroom for a look. The kitchen window felt somehow safer, possibly because there was a bench between me and whatever was shrouding everything in blackness. The only thing I thought it could have been was an eclipse, but we had only had one a few weeks prior, so it was pretty well impossible that it would happen again so soon.

I lay on the countertop belly-down like I was some sort of seal, cracked the window open, and glanced out to the left and then the right. The air outside was still and warm, as if the sun had never set and the darkness had never taken the edge off the day's heat. I could see absolutely nothing, no matter which direction I looked in. My neighbours were a metre away, but I couldn't even see the next set of windowsills, even while shining the light outside. I frowned and pulled the window shut as I slid off the counter. This was decidedly odd.

As I went back into my room, I switched off my flashlight to conserve battery and in the immersive blackness, clumsily pulled on yesterday's jeans, t-shirt and button-up shirt I'd carelessly chucked onto the end of my bed. It was time to visit Libby, my neighbour across the hall. Libby was a formidable 90-year-old with a sparkle in her eye and a penchant for making fruit cake. I met her the day I moved in, and we took such a liking to each other that we usually spoke and visited each other most days. She had lived in the same apartment with her husband for 50-odd years, and noticed everything that happened. She would know what was up for sure. I had the strange urge to take a backpack with me, which I swiped on my way out and chucked some chocolate, water, a book or two, and my first aid kit into.

"_Libby?_" I called out as I knocked loudly on her door. "Libby, are you in there? It's Rhodri!"

No answer. I must have stood there in the blackness hammering on her door for ten minutes, then spent another ten pounding on the doors of my other neighbours. Nobody answered. I went to call someone, anyone, but my phone had no reception. This was becoming quite alarming. I had to get out of here.

I took the stairs down as quickly as I could, hearing the blood rush in my ears as my panic grew. I'd read a couple of apocalypse novels in my time, but I hadn't noticed any bookstores amalgamating that genre with the nonfiction/documentaries, or people running around like headless chickens in preparation for the grisly end. Evidently, though, I was very unobservant, because as I burst through the front door, I was met with yet more nothingness. My stomach dropped. I had been in the middle of suburbia, buildings and cement as far as the eye could see, and then as I stepped off the tiled entryway, my foot landed on—

"GRASS?!" I roared as looked down. I looked up and shone my flashlight all around, but there was nothingness everywhere. There wasn't a soul around, and all the buildings were gone. No roads, no footpaths, no nothing.

Most people you talk to about an apocalypse will usually say they have it all worked out. First they'd raid the local grocery, starting with all the perishables, and then spend the rest of their days feasting on chocolate. Raid any other shops for necessities as often as needed. Easy enough, really. _I_ had also planned to do that, but in this blackness, this void that was utterly bereft of all signs of life, my only urge was to walk. Just keep going in the hopes of running into something, anything.

After walking about a hundred metres, I looked behind me and saw that even my apartment building had disappeared. I ran back to where I had been, and it was gone, like there had never been a sign of it. I couldn't help but let out a terrified gasp now. Everything had disappeared except the grass. Zapped away like deleting a house- or an entire neighbourhood- on the Sims. Nothing remained except me.

It felt like I was walking for hours- possibly in circles, I couldn't say for sure. Eventually, I caught sight of some flicker of light in the distance. I couldn't believe my luck. I'd spent however long in the darkness coming to grips with the idea that I would probably perish if I couldn't find any food or water or light sources—and things were looking pretty grim there. I felt a surge of energy along with my newfound hope, and my walk picked up to a run—a sprint, really, because I was bolting as fast as I could to get myself over to that light.

As with the walking, the running just went on and on. As I drew closer to the light source, which I now saw flickered orange, I could have sworn I saw a black dot in the middle, and the light looked as though it were on some kind of enormous plinth, so high that it silhouetted what appeared to be a mountain range in front of it. It looked an awful lot like the Eye of Sauron, which amused me to no end, but I still decided not to go directly toward it out of a feeling of unease, instead heading to the left of it.

I got lucky with my choice of direction, because I eventually found a small body of water after a few panicked days' traversing. I drank from that stream for straight minutes, and joyfully splashed around in the dim light like some kind of ecstatic, screaming fish. I was thrilled to have postponed my death yet longer, and celebrated by anxiously walking as close as I could to the river without actually falling in.

To cut a long story short, I followed the river for a few months, and in moving away from the Eye of Sauron, I had thought I was leaving my only source of light behind me. I was proved wrong. As the time passed, the world around me started to give a growing sense of normal- out of nonstop blackness, days started to grow, and the sun shone brighter and longer until it finally stretched into a normal day-night cycle. To my delight, my environment finally showed signs of life, too. A fox, some deer, fish in the river, and there were trees and bushes with fruit that apparently wasn't deadly, because I still hadn't snuffed it by the point I had found-

"My god, a person," I gasped to myself as I saw a tall figure with long hair, armed with a bow and arrows, running around in the distance. I threw up my hands and waved them like an air traffic director on bath salts and screamed, "HEEEEEEYYYYYYY!" at the top of my lungs.


	2. Correction: End of MY world

The figure had apparently not noticed me there, but that changed as their head turned to face me and they deftly drew an arrow from their quiver to put in their bowstring. Shit. Imagine coming all this way after the world as you know it has literally ended, only to get shot dead with an arrow a quarter of a year later.

"HEY WAIT!" I shouted, making sure to show my hands. "I'M UNARMED! PLEASE DON'T SHOOT! LET ME WALK OVER NEAR YOU!"

The figure seemed to consider this acceptable enough and gestured for me to approach. I power-walked over, keeping my hands up at all times, and my eyes peeled for any hint of an ambush. Thankfully, we managed to peacefully interact. She was a little taller than me and athletic, her eyes keen and sparkling. The strangest thing happened when she opened her mouth to speak: I knew she wasn't speaking English (or Turkish or Chinese, which were the only other two languages I spoke), and yet I could understand her.

"Who are you?" she asked, the mistrust on her face unmistakable as she continued to hold her bow drawn, ready to skewer me at any time. She scanned me from top to toe, brows knitted, as she awaited my answer.

"My name is Rhodri," I forced myself to be calm as, to my shock, I effortlessly answered her in her own language. "Rhodri Violet Fanshawe. I have been lost these last months; you are the first human I have come across since I started out."

Her frown deepened. "I am no human," she replied. "I am an Elf."

She could have told me she was a green spotted elephant and I would have humoured her at that point.

"I beg your pardon," I apologised humbly. "I'm not familiar with your people. I am a stranger to this land."

"And yet you speak my language without error or accent," she raised a brow at me. "That hardly seems like something one would expect of a stranger."

She had a point. I shrugged. "You're absolutely right," I said. "I'm still wondering how I know it, myself." I sighed. If she was going to shoot me for being uncooperative, I figured she probably would have done it by now, so I decided to push my luck a little further. "I didn't catch your name, by the way."

The Elf seemed taken aback but answered me all the same. "I am Bregedúr," she said, and quickly added when I smiled at her, "And I defy you to laugh at me for having a man's name!" She pulled back on the bowstring just a little more.

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at her. "My name is traditionally male as well," I said with a wry look. "My goodness, look how much we have in common. We could practically be twins."

She sniggered at this, involuntarily and seemingly unwillingly, as she quickly shook her head and frowned at me. I understood. Any unusual name makes it harder for people to take you seriously, and it forces you to be more formidable, more respectable, more everything, just to be given the same level of credence. I smiled politely at her.

"Ma'am, I'll be upfront with you here," I said to her. "I am presently itinerant and have been following the river in the three months just gone. I understand if you wish to be left alone, but I wonder if you might tell me where the nearest settlement is so that I can at least find out where I am and try to work out what is going on?"

"You… do not know where you are?" she asked me in borderline disbelief.

"I do not," I replied simply. "As lovely as I'm sure you are, I doubt that I would have greeted you with such panicked vigour were I not so lost as to be certain that I might never meet another person again. I remain lost, but have at least had the luxury of communication now."

Bregedúr stared at me blankly for a moment, and then slowly lowered her bow. "This makes no sense. You speak my language perfectly, yet you are not one of my people. And you claim to not even be one of my world."

"I'm aware," I answered heavily. "It has been a very challenging few months, and I would like help to make sense of it all as soon as may be."

Bregedúr was silent for a moment as she considered my reply, and then put her arrow back in its quiver and slung her bow over her shoulder.

"You are unwell," she informed me. "I will take you back to my home and you will be seen by our healers." She nodded once to confirm her own decision. "Our journey will take a little over a week, but I have provisions enough to last us the trip back."

"Not a problem," I said gratefully. "I very much appreciate any assistance you can give me."

The next week saw us cross grasslands and eventually pass over a mountain range. Bregedúr was an interesting sort, with a tough-as-nails veneer that belied a happy, affectionate and energetic albeit short-tempered personality. We spoke almost nonstop the entire trip, and by the time we were on the outskirts of her home region, we had already become friends. Not only did I learn about her, I also learned a bit about myself, too. This new world had already changed me in ways I hadn't expected. Since I met Bregedúr, for example, I hadn't slept a wink. Not because she prevented me from sleeping, but because I had no need for it. I had managed to fall asleep each night in the months I had spent in this strange land, but I was never sleepy. I thought it was the panic keeping me awake, but I realised the true reason: I no longer felt fatigue, even though we had done well above the recommended 10 000 steps a day. I had grown taller, too, and my skin glowed just a little. No pointed ears, though, and I fell through the snowdrift when I tried to follow Bregedúr, who trod on top without leaving so much as a footprint as we traversed the inclement mountain range. But even forcing myself through snow didn't tire me out. I wasn't an Elf, I knew that much, but I had certainly become something different.

The most shocking thing of all, though, is what I realised I was hearing when we approached the outskirts of Bregedúr's home, which was ensconced in forest. I thought nothing of it, assuming the increase in ambient sounds was nothing more than the white noise of insects and animals.

"The trees are excited," Bregedúr murmured, half to herself, half to me as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"The tr—what?" I asked in confusion. She motioned for me to listen out as we walked into the forest, and in true top-down processing fashion, instead of white noise, all I could hear was words.

"Hmm, she is odd…"

"Haven't seen one of her kind in years…"

"Where did she come from, I wonder…"

Having trees gossip about me was certainly a novel experience, but curiously, I wasn't afraid. I smiled at them and followed Bregedúr through the forest until I caught a sight that took my breath away.

As we emerged from between the trees, we were greeted with the visage of a huge, green valley, which had a small river running through it, fed by a waterfall at the top of the cleft. The place was dotted with large, grand wooden houses, and people milled about in long, beautiful robes, happy and totally at ease. It was a work of art, and I could have spent straight days just drinking the view in.

"Welcome to Imladris," Bregedúr said with a smile.

_Bregedúr _(Sind.): wildfire


	3. You're a what?

As one might expect, in my clothes, I stood out like a sore thumb, making me prime material for staring. And boy did I get stared at. Conspicuously, inconspicuously, even flinchingly at times among the very small children. It seemed that Elven toddlers were equally as suspicious of new people as the human ones. Some things never change.

Bregedúr brought me up to what turned out to be the hospital wing, where a dark-haired, noble sort of fellow in lilac robes was busy filling a glass vial with some dark green tincture.

"Lord Elrond," she began, when the man looked up and gave her a small smile of acknowledgement.

"Ah, Bregedúr!" he said. "You have returned from your expedition early, I see. Is your companion the reason for this?" He gestured at me, glanced in my direction, and did a small double-take when he caught sight of what I was wearing.

"Indeed I am," I said to him with a deferential nod. "I am Rhodri Fanshawe. Bregedúr found me by a body of water about a week's journey from here."

"The Anduin, my Lord," Bregedúr added. "She did not know where she was or how she had arrived there, so I thought it best to bring her for you to look over."

Elrond frowned and nodded.

"You do not know where you are?" he asked me.

"Well, Bregedúr said "Welcome to Imladris" when we caught sight of this beautiful town," I said, "so I presume that is the name of the area, but exactly where Imladris is and what surrounds it, I'm afraid I don't know, no."

Elrond pursed his lips as he thought a moment. "Have you any injuries?"

I shook my head. "None at all. In fact, I've never felt better."

This was met with confusion on both his and Bregedúr's part.

"Do you recall anyone performing any magic on you?"

I looked at Elrond blankly. "Magic, you say?"

"Yes, sorcery, spellcasting, that sort of thing," he confirmed.

"People can't really do that, can they?" I asked politely but sceptically.

Elrond's eyebrows shot up, as though he couldn't believe his pointy ears.

"They certainly can," he replied, possibly wondering to himself what sort of uncultivated, fashion-aberrant hole I'd crawled out of. "Where have you come from that does not believe in magic?"

Ah. This was where it was going to get interesting.

"Ahm… London, Sir," I replied. "It is a part of the nation of Great Britain, in Europe."

None of those places seemed to ring a bell. "… Planet Earth?" I tried hopefully.

He shook his head. "Where in Arda are you from?"

"Where is Arda?" I asked.

Elrond looked at Bregedúr as though I had told them such a whopper of a lie that it almost came full circle and seemed plausible again.

"Would you be so kind as to follow me?" he requested, stepping out of the hospital wing. We trailed behind him down the corridor to a set of double doors that opened into a spectacular library. It was a giant, airy place that rivalled the Royal Portuguese Reading Room in beauty, with deep brown wooden shelves that stretched halfway up the high walls, ladders propped up here and there around the room. He took out what looked to be a huge map and spread it out over one of the tables.

"This," Elrond informed me, "is a map of Arda. Everybody lives here. This is our entire world. We are here," he pointed at a small patch of forest in the middle of the map marked Imladris. "Would you be able to show me which part of Arda you hail from?"

I looked at Bregedúr. "Do you know where you found me?" I asked her. "Maybe I can work backwards from there." Bregedúr pointed to the snaking Anduin to the right of Imladris.

"Let's see," I murmured. "I turned right when I reached the water and followed it up…" I traced my finger down along the river.

"I remember these marshes and those woods…" my finger went further down, "And then, hmm… Mordor… I did see fire over the mountain range where I was coming from, so I suppose I would have started out somewhere around here." I made a circle with my finger around a region called "Near Harad."

Elrond and Bregedúr looked at me with confusion. "Surely you are not one of the Haradrim?" Elrond asked me.

"I don't think so," I said as I shook my head. "That name was never used in the language I spoke day-to-day, nor was it used in any of the languages I had learned growing up. In fact, I had never heard of it until just now. What is this place supposed to be like?"

"Hot, dry, vast expanses with very sparse population," he answered.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Elrond had a question mark plastered on his face.

"Britain is nothing like that. It doesn't get hot. It's tiny. It pours with rain most days, and it's absolutely packed with people, some 50 million or more."

Elrond and Bregedúr looked at me agape, as if they had never even imagined such a huge population before.

"That is not Harad, then," murmured Elrond. "In which case, how did you find yourself in Harad?"

I sighed heavily now. We had reached the crux of the issue, and I wasn't keen to talk about it. I requested that we sit on one of the squashy couches nearby, and launched into the horrors of the last few months, starting from that nightmarish 10am start.

Elrond and Bregedúr listened, enraptured, and when I finally finished, they were rendered speechless.

"It all… disappeared?" Bregedúr whispered.

I nodded. "Like it had been sucked up by the darkness. All the buildings, all the people, everything just gone."

It was the first time I had acknowledged that I had quite literally lost my entire world. My brothers and sisters, neighbours, job, house, family, city… everything gone without a trace. The enormity of the situation hit me like a freight train, and I sat there, feeling the water continuously leak from my eyes. I'd lost it all, just like that.

"What am I going to do?" I whispered to myself as I rested my chin on my hands and racked my brains for a solution, staring out the nearest window all the while.

Bregedúr hesitantly put a hand on my shoulder, and I snapped out of my miserable reverie, looking at her and Elrond. They watched me kindly, and Elrond said, "You are most welcome to make Imladris your home, Rhodri."

This was absolutely bloody bananas. The world had just ended and I just got an offer to move to a fairytale village. But I had checked time and again whether this was a psychotic episode, and it wasn't. This was genuinely what was happening, so I decided that I would have to leave my grief for the time being and focus on the here and now.

"Thank you for your kind offer, Sir. I gratefully accept," I answered Elrond with a nod and a small smile. Elrond smiled back, and turned to Bregedúr.

"Is that room in the quarters where you sleep still empty, Bregedúr?" he asked. Bregedúr confirmed that it was.

"Very well. If you would be so kind as to take our newest resident to that room there, I will arrange for servants to bring some additional clothes for your wardrobe and any other necessities as you see fit," Elrond said as he stood up and peered out the window as he headed for the door. The sun was setting outside, and he turned to us and said, "I will see you both at dinner." With that, he was gone.

Bregedúr and I hopped up and started snaking down the corridors to the sleeping quarters Elrond had mentioned. It looked far fancier than the sort of sleeping quarters I had heard of. Unlike the average military/ship/Millennium Falcon six-to-a-room sort of arrangement, this was an entire annexe lined with handsome, carved cherry wood doors which each opened to one spacious bedroom and balcony for each person. Mine had a large wooden four-poster bed, a writing desk and chair, a wardrobe, and an empty set of shelves. A couple of landscape paintings hung on two of the walls, and the darkening sky could be seen through the glass-panelled double doors leading out to the balcony outside.

A servant came in shortly after with a few changes of clothes. Bregedúr and I agreed to meet in the corridor (her room was across from mine) in 20 minutes and go to dinner together. I quickly washed up and put on a set of peacock green robes and some soft shoes of the same colour. I glanced into the mirror to check my buttons aligned, and did a double-take when I realised my face had changed a little. It was like a surgeon had made a few small but unmistakable minor adjustments. My teeth were now perfectly straight, a few small acne scars had vanished, and my skin glowed with the sort of vitality one only saw in wellness centre ads. I was sure other things had changed, but I couldn't put my finger on any more at that point. I didn't particularly mind either way whether those original features were there or not; I was quite content with my appearance irrespective.

I contradicted the above as I gasped when I realised I might have lost the cool scar I had on my left forearm. I had sustained an impressively deep gravel rash after a childhood skateboarding accident, and the keloid scarring that resulted from spinning out on the rocky ground was in the shape of a wave. It was somewhat grotesque, but the shape and texture had always intrigued me and I always enjoyed showing it off. Rolling up my sleeve, I saw to my intense displeasure that my arm was smooth and bare. I let out a guttural 'ugh.' As soon as I opened my mouth to make the sound, though, the scar reappeared before my eyes.

"Christ, I'm a shapeshifter," I murmured to myself in shock as I saw the wave painlessly bubble back into view. I was snapped out of my astonishment when I heard a knock on my door. I checked my watch and saw that it was time to head out, so I rolled down my sleeve and thought nothing of it as I met Bregedúr, who stood in the corridor in a set of burnt orange robes. She smiled at me, and together we set off back down the halls to the dining area.

When we stepped inside the large, richly-appointed dining area, we were greeted by Elrond and invited to sit by him at the end of the very long table. The other seats slowly started to fill up, and plates of bread, meat, fruit, and vegetables were brought out in generous quantities.

As we ate, we started exchanging basic information about ourselves. I was 32 years old, Bregedúr was 87, and Elrond was 1758. I'd spent such a long time being shocked about everything that speaking with someone who was nearly two millennia old felt like nothing at all.

"And so what about work?" I asked them. "What do you all do here?" I was, of course, interested in their careers as a means of knowing them better, but also to learn more about the employment opportunities here.

"I am a scout," Bregedúr said with a proud smile.

"In my official capacity, I am herald of the King of the Noldor, Gil-Galad," Elrond said, "but most of the time I oversee things here in Imladris."

"Lord Elrond found and built Imladris," Bregedúr added.

"You made all this?" I asked Elrond, seriously impressed.

"Well, it was made by many hands, but I oversaw the project as a whole," Elrond replied modestly. He didn't seem keen to trumpet his achievement, so he quickly directed the topic back onto me. "And what of you? You are young by our standards; were you of an age to have a profession in your culture?"

"I was," I replied. "I had been working as a psychologist for some five years before everything vanished."

Elrond and Bregedúr looked at each other in confusion, and then at me.

"A-- what did you call it?" Bregedúr asked.

"Psychologist," I repeated for them. "It is…" I paused as I tried to find old-timey words that suitably described my job. "It is a counsellor and healer, but solely for matters of the mind. People would come to me with problems in thinking, feeling, behaving, or for advice, and I would find the root of the problem and help them find the best way to fix it." That was a very, very generalised description of my job and overlooked the hours of research, peer review, and extra study I took on top of my day job, but I figured it would suffice for now.

The two of them nodded, Elrond looking particularly interested.

And thus, my practice in Middle-Earth was born. Elrond was very taken with the idea of having a psychologist, and invited me to be the resident psychologist in Imladris. Elves do not use money, but rather exist in a communal sort of arrangement. My five-day working week (with holidays and sick leave as desired/needed) gave me board, rent, all education and training to fit into society here, and essentially whatever I desired. Elrond allowed me use of an empty study down the hall from his own office. It was fairly roomy- certainly big enough for my purposes, and a little more closed-off than most other rooms, which was perfect for maintaining confidentiality. I managed to secure a lockable set of drawers in which to keep my files, and with that, I was set.


	4. The stuff nightmares are made of

My first client came in the very next day. I had spent the night before in the library, drawing up a bunch of confidentiality agreements and copies of assessment scales off my phone before I lost access to them for good.

I was in the office copying out a social phobia questionnaire when there was a soft knock on the door frame. I had intentionally left the door open to help the office seem inviting. I looked up and saw an Elf waiting politely by the doorway. He was tall (they all are), beautiful (they all are), and had long, blonde hair (not all were blondes) that shimmered and danced like spun gold as he walked. He smiled at me cheerily, and I smiled back and I invited him in, putting the papers to the side. The Elf entered, closing the door behind him at my request, and approached me.

"Good day," he greeted me amiably. "I am Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower. Lord Elrond informed me that Imladris had a newcomer, and I wished to welcome you."

I was touched. "Well thank you very much! What a kind gesture. I appreciate it!" I replied gratefully. "My name is Rhodri, and you're absolutely right. I'm the new resident psychologist here." I offered him a seat and a glass of water, and we spent the next few minutes swapping a few important details about ourselves, and at his request, I explained a little about my job.

"Your profession intrigues me," Glorfindel said to me when I had finished. "I wonder…" He opened his mouth again and closed it, as if he wanted to speak, but didn't know quite what to say. This wasn't uncommon in my sessions. Clients might sometimes be silent for the majority, or even the entirety of sessions.

I smiled a little to reassure him, and said to him, "If you have something you think I might be able to help with, let's have a quick talk first about how I keep things private. Whatever you say in here stays within these four walls. Any notes I take are written in a script only I can understand (I opted to write my notes in Mandarin here, since I was sure it was a language nobody else would be able to decrypt), and they are locked away in the drawers behind me. The only time I would ever be forced to break my silence would be if I had good reason to believe that you were going to harm yourself or others."

Glorfindel chewed this over for a moment, and then slowly nodded.

"If you decide to try therapy out with me, you should know you are allowed to stop whenever you want, and that you are welcome to speak up when you are unhappy with how things are proceeding."

This seemed to be well accepted by Glorfindel. I pulled out a confidentiality agreement and showed it to him, which he read and then signed at the bottom with a beautiful, flowing signature. I spent another few minutes informing him of the code of ethics I was bound to, and this was met with another nod of understanding.

And so we returned for a moment to our silence as Glorfindel tapped his lips and frowned slightly, as if trying to collect his thoughts. I gave him a minute or two, and when he still hadn't said anything, I spoke.

"It seems like you're having a bit of difficulty knowing where to start. Would you like me to ask you a few questions so we can start building up a picture of what's going on together?"

Glorfindel seemed relieved by this, and nodded.

"Do you ever have trouble concentrating?"

"Some days I do," he answered.

"How often would you say that occurs?"

"A few days a month."

I noted this down.

"So it comes and goes, does it?"

He nodded.

"On those days, do you experience anything else out of the ordinary? Things like perhaps a shorter temper, tiredness, feeling very sad?"

He nodded again. "All of those. I hide it from others, because I am very well known among my contemporaries for being joyful and energetic and it is so out of character for me, but on those days I feel… weary. Poorly rested. A little… haunted, perhaps you might say."

I nodded. "You say you feel poorly rested on those days. Have you noticed any decrease in sleep quality the night before those bad days?"

"I have," he replied with a fervent nod. On those nights, my sleep is very poor indeed."

It seemed we were starting to identify an issue. Anyone who has slept poorly will attest to feeling like roadkill the next day. Without a decent night's sleep, brain function is diminished in many areas, ranging from poor concentration and memory to irritability, and, of course, fatigue. One bad night is enough to turn anyone into a foul-tempered git, but when it's an ongoing problem, that becomes worrisome. I invited Glorfindel to tell me about what happens on his 'bad nights' to decrease his sleep quality. He glanced around at the door behind him nervously, and I assured him that everything stayed in this office. Uneasily, he began to speak.

"As I fall asleep, I hear a roaring sound in my ears, and it makes me jerk awake again. The noise has no source. It is as though my head created the sound on its own, and it is overwhelmingly loud. It takes some time for me to calm myself and relax enough to fall asleep again, and it often happens three or four times before I fall asleep. Those nights are also often accompanied by the same vivid nightmare that I am reliving the last moments of my battle against a Balrog that I won, but then perished by falling shortly after." Glorfindel paused for a second and looked up at me with an exhaustion that made him look every one of his several thousand years of age. "When I awake, the terror from the dream follows me the rest of the day, and it takes some time for me to relax again."

Most people panic when they can hear sounds with no visible source. 'Hallucination' is an almost taboo word, because it seems like such a break with reality that it is a warning sign of true, "stark-raving insanity" (though 'insanity' is not a word that I particularly care for), and is the worst possible thing a person could suffer.

The roaring sound Glorfindel described hearing while falling asleep is known as a hypnagogic hallucination, and is actually rather common. In many cases, hypnagogic hallucinations are not linked with psychosis or other mental illness. They usually indicate that one is sleep-deprived, but they can also be a symptom of an underlying primary (occurring on its own) or secondary (occurring as a result of another disorder) sleep disorder. I explained this to Glorfindel, whose eyes widened in a mixture of relief and surprise.

I glanced at my watch. It had been fifteen minutes already. I tried to keep my sessions to an hour so as not to exhaust the clients. It seemed that I had enough time to ask for a bit more back story.

"You mentioned your dreams make you relive the time where you fought a Balrog and won, but then died shortly after. Have these dreams been occurring since you returned to life?"

"No," he said slowly. "If I recall correctly, they began to happen after we departed Valinor and arrived in Middle-Earth."

For many people who experience or problems with thinking, feeling, or behaving, there are two things to look out for: precipitating and protective factors. The precipitating factor refers to what happens just before the bad emotion/thought/behaviour occurs. It could be a cause but otherwise might simply be indicative of the exact straw that breaks the camel's back. It often has a pattern, so is worth identifying as early as possible. Precipitating factors might be someone shouting at you, or reaching the end of the month and not having enough money to keep the household running.

The protective factor describes what makes the problematic emotion/thought/behaviour easier to cope with, which can be things like having a family or loved one to talk with, enjoying your job, having plans to go on holiday. These aren't tickets for immediate relief of the problem. Think of protective factors more as the solid foundations under a house. Risk reduction sort of stuff.

I recalled Valinor as being the latter of these. It had been described, in what little I had read of Middle-Earth, as a haven without suffering. In this mythical milk-and-honey land, where all wounds were healed lickety-split, someone like me would be out of a job as sure as eggs is eggs. I had no idea how it worked- perhaps there was something in the water there- but in leaving Valinor, Glorfindel had lost the protection it offered, and in crept these symptoms.

A little more probing revealed that Glorfindel otherwise lived a very satisfying life, with much social activity (though he had never spoken about this with anyone) and enjoyed both leisure and work time in Imladris. He wanted for nothing- except a more restful night's sleep, of course.

The difficulty with translating my job to Middle-Earth starts here. After he described the incident with the Balrog in greater detail, and what happened during his dream, I was almost certain that he suffered from what is known as nightmare disorder. It can occur as the result of trauma, though not always, and usually manifests as terrifying, vivid dreams that impact sleep quality and thus functioning during the day in much the same way as Glorfindel had described.

Making a proper diagnosis, however, would require a sleep study, where Glorfindel would be hooked up to all manner of machines, and then tested to see which sleep stage he reached when the nightmares set in. This was impossible in the current setting, but I decided I had enough information to at least initiate some therapeutic suggestions. As for the hypnagogic hallucinations, they could have been a sign of narcolepsy, a condition which makes a person extremely sleepy at unexpected moments during daylight hours, but I couldn't be sure. I felt reasonably sure, though, that when the nightmares had been handled, the hallucinations would sort themselves out.

I explained to Glorfindel what I thought was the problem, and made two suggestions.

"First, I want you to keep a diary for the next week. In it, I would like you to give a brief overview of what happened during the day, list a few things that made you happy or sad that day, and write about how you slept. If you had the nightmare, whether you heard the roaring in your hears, and then how you felt the next day." I wrote these instructions down for Glorfindel. He nodded and accepted the list I handed to him.

"Second, I would like to suggest you undertake some therapy to try and modify the course of your nightmare."

He raised his eyebrows at me, as if I had suggested the impossible.

"It's more achievable than you think," I said with a smile. "The dream abruptly ends when you have fallen from the cliff and impact the ground, you said?"

Glorfindel affirmed that I was correct.

"Indeed. Well, Glorfindel, the therapy I had in mind is known as Imagery Rehearsal Therapy. Bit by bit, we will cement a new storyline into your head so that the unpleasant parts of the dream are modified into something more palatable. Would you be amenable to trying it next week during your next session?"

He seemed quite intrigued by the prospect, and nodded, seeming to become more sure of his decision with each nod.

"Good. Well, as I said before, you do not have to do any therapy you do not want to, and you can stop treatments at any time. I will provide you with all of the information next week before we start, and I'll use this week to start putting together some ideas on how to re-frame your dream- just suggestions, nothing you need to rigidly follow. In the meantime, just use the week to work on your diary, make as many notes as you can, and I'll see you in here next Thursday, yes?"

His face resumed its characteristic brightness as he smiled warmly at me.

"Yes," he confirmed cheerily. "And before then, I will see you tomorrow to fit you out with some weapons so you can begin training."

My eyes widened. "Weapons training?" I squeaked. "I've never even- god, with what? A sword?"

Glorfindel looked amused by my shock. "Yes indeed," he said. "In these troubled times, it is most prudent to be able to wield a weapon of some sort. Do not be overly concerned. You can stop at any time." He shot me a wide, cheeky grin.

I snorted with laughter. "Can we meet here? I don't know my way around this place yet."

"Certainly," Glorfindel said as he made for the door. "See you tomorrow!" And with that, he left the room with the same effortlessly graceful, springy gait as a ballet dancer, the Elf's flowing hair being the last part of him to turn the corner as it rippled out behind him.


	5. Your bias is showing

So tell me a little about the here and now," I said to Bregedúr over lunch the next day..

"What do you mean?" she asked as she bit into an apple.

"Well, things like what is happening in Imladris of late, today's date, what we anticipate happening in the near future," I rattled off the top off my head.

"Ah, I see. Well, today is Orithil, the ninth day of Iavas. The year is 1698 of the Second Age." Bregedúr paused, apparently having picked up on my confusion. "Did you understand any of that?" she asked.

I smiled and shook my head; it was as though I were teflon and her information water. Fortunately, my friend quickly gave me the run-down on the days of the week, months of the year, and that, "the Second Age… well, yes, that's the one after the First Age, I suppose." She frowned as she considered her last statement.

"You really should have become a teacher, Bregedúr. You're wasted as a scout," I said jokingly as I raised an eyebrow at her, and burst out laughing as she scowled and shoved me so hard I nearly came off my seat.

"But okay, so we've got the chronology thing sorted," I continued as I took a bite of bread. "What's news around here, then?"

"Oh. Hmm." Bregedúr frowned a little. "Well, really, Imladris itself is very new. It was only properly established in the last year. Much of the construction you see here was completed days before you arrived, and even then, substantial work remains."

I looked around me in wonder at the hall we sat in and my mind went back to all the houses and buildings we walked past as we made for Elrond's house. The library, with its enormous shelves and beautiful furniture. Bregedúr seemed to have read my mind yet again and added, "We had a lot of help from the other Elves in Eregion, and we do not tire readily, as you know, so construction was fast, but not miraculously so."

"Incredible," I breathed.

"Though," she half murmured to herself, half to me as a shadow passed over her face, "Our work may soon be undone."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Sauron's forces in the East grow restless." She looked out the nearest window uneasily. "I fear another attack may be imminent. In fact, I was out scouting for evidence of this when I met you."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry for disrupting your work like that," I began, hoping that my interruption had not cost her any useful signs of brewing trouble. Bregedúr stopped me by holding a hand up gently and smiling.

"You did not. I had actually finished early and was ready to turn back; I am only an apprentice scout, and am not yet permitted to stray too far from the borders."

I heaved a sigh of relief.

"Come," she said to me as she took one last bite of her apple. "Let us go for a walk. I will show you some of the noteworthy places here before you are due to meet Glorfindel."

"Ah, excellent. Thank you, Bregedúr, that would be very helpful," I said gratefully. I hurriedly fit the remaining two bites' worth of bread in my mouth and hoped that Bregedúr would not say anything requiring an answer as we got up and exited the dining hall.

Imladris was the sort of place that managed to seem big and small all at once. The trees that peppered the landscape were mighty and tall, and the large, airy wooden houses fit right into the picture. And yet, everything was very accessible. It seemed as though nothing was more than five or ten minutes' walk from anything else. It probably helped that almost everything was in view, which made the distance seem much less than what it truly was.

We stopped first at the communal gardens, which seemed to be divided into sections by purpose: food, aesthetic, medicinal, and a special area at the back which Bregedúr informed me was a selection of high-pollen plants especially selected for the bees to assist in honey production- honey, it seemed, was quite a prized commodity here. I could hear the low, cheerful buzzing in the honey plot all the way from the other side of the gardens, so it seems the flowers in there were well chosen.

As we made our way to an adjacent building—the music rooms, I was told—we ran into someone who appeared to be almost a replica of Bregedúr. She was similarly tall and athletic, sporting a long, auburn braid and had the same keen, leaf-green eyes as my friend.

"Ah, Bregedúr!" the carbon copy greeted her with a smile. "Who is your companion?"

"Hello, sister," Bregedúr replied happily. "This is Rhodri. She is newly resident here." She turned to me. "This is my older sister, Idhorwen."

"Pleasure to meet you," I said with a friendly nod.

"Likewise, I'm sure," she answered. "Where are you two off to?"

"I am showing Rhodri where the most important things in Imladris can be found," said Bregedúr.

"Excellent. Don't forget to show her the kitchens," Idhorwen reminded her sister. She turned to me and added, "Today they are making lembas for the month, and the smell is delicious," closing her eyes blissfully for a moment.

Bregedúr scowled. "Ah, of course I know to show her the kitchens on lembas day," she answered with a hint of testiness in her voice. "That was the next stop after the music rooms."

The sudden change in her sister's countenance did not seem to ruffle Idhorwen in the slightest. In fact, she laughed, pat Bregedúr on the shoulder, and said, "Good, good. In which case, I won't keep you any further. I am sure we will meet again soon, Rhodri. Enjoy your tour, you two!" She headed off in the direction of the gardens with a wave.

There was a small, awkward silence in the next few minutes as we made for the music rooms. I got the impression Bregedúr was stewing over her exchange with her sister, and judging by Idhorwen's reaction before, this was nothing new.

"Everything all right?" I asked casually as we walked.

"Bah. People annoy me with their ridiculous ways sometimes," Bregedúr replied with an irritated sigh.

"How do you mean?"

"They are unpredictable. One moment the conversation goes well, and the next moment, they make rude comments like my sister just did. It tries my temper greatly."

I said nothing for a moment as I thought back through all of my prior interactions with Bregedúr. Since meeting her, I had thought that her name suited her down to the ground. Wildfire. And wasn't she just an untamed flame! Crackling with energy, warmth and vigour that could leap without warning and burn you. But she did leap a little too readily at times, I felt.

I cast my mind back to the day I met her, when I smiled as she introduced herself and she shouted at me for 'laughing' at her 'manly' name. A smile can mean a lot of things, but it's much more often attributed to happiness than ill intent. And yet ill intent was what she had assumed, and not for the first time, either, judging by the defensiveness she had shown in other conversations. I wanted to know more. Was she being bullied? Or was this something else?

"Bregedúr," I broached tentatively, "Can I ask a rather personal question?"

Bregedúr seemed a little surprised but invited me to ask whatever I wished.

"Has anyone teased you about your name?"

She looked at me sharply. I calmly added, "You already know I think it's a terrific name and it suits you perfectly."

Bregedúr relaxed a little at this, and after thinking for a moment, she slowly said, "Well, my father told me it was a male name."

"Did he say it in a cruel tone, or in a way that suggested it was the worse for it?"

"… No, he didn't," she finally answered.

"Has anyone else said anything since about it?" I asked.

"… No."

I put my hands in my pockets, thinking about what she said, and wondering how to proceed. I felt that Bregedúr probably would not want to engage in therapy, and that there probably wasn't much to treat in either case. This probably warranted advice more than actual therapy. It was a simple issue: Bregedúr was finding meanness and ill intent in comments that were neutral or benign. Fortunately, this simple issue has a simple solution, too. When I finally worked out what to say, I spoke again.

"You know, Bregedúr, it seems like those comments—those ones that strike you as unexpected and unpleasant— upset you a lot."

She was silent. I pressed on.

"Do you ever feel like it happens to you more than it does to others?"

A nod. I nodded back.

"I have an fascinating snippet of information that might be of some help. Would you be interested in hearing it?"

Bregedúr looked at me curiously and nodded again.

"There's this concept called 'cognitive biases.' Have you heard of it before?"

She said she had not.

"It essentially refers to the foibles of the mind. There exists a litany of biases, and we all are affected by them from time to time. One very common cognitive bias is the 'hostile attribution bias.' It's when we interpret something someone has said as being unfriendly or poorly-meant, when in reality what they said was neutral, or even well-meant."

Bregedúr raised an eyebrow at me in a vaguely warning look. I paused and watched up at her, awaiting a round of defensiveness. If she had intended to be defensive, though, she had bitten it back, instead slowly saying, "Go on."

"I'll give you an example of hostile attribution bias I experienced very recently myself. I was carrying some very heavy bags, and my sister, Flora, offered to carry some. I automatically felt offence, as though she were suggesting I was too weak to carry them on my own." I felt a pang of sadness as I thought of my darling big sister, now vanished without a trace. The grief train was about to hit me hard if I couldn't keep the conversation going. I cleared my throat and carried on.

"But then I looked at the context. Flora was dearly beloved to me, did not mock my strength habitually, and she noticed me visibly struggling with these bags, so the likelihood of her intending to insult me by offering to help was very slim indeed."

"Most of the time, people with whom you enjoy a healthy relationship want what is best for you, and so neutral or ambiguous statements are usually inclined to be well-meant and friendly."

Bregedúr said nothing for a while. I gave her some time to process, and then I said, "I think you'll feel a lot happier if you keep context in mind when people say something that upsets you like that, and if you still aren't sure whether it was poorly-intended, ask what they meant by it. Takes a bit of practice, but once you're in the habit of it, only the words that are meant to sting, will sting."

"Hmm," was all Bregedúr said for a while.

"Anyway, that's all I'll say on the matter. Just a little life tip from one friend to another. I want you to be happy," I said, clapping her on the back as we walked into the music room.

Our tour should have taken us to the kitchens after that, as well as the stargazing platform and then the forge, but we ended up spending that time having a two-person jam session. It turned out Bregedúr was an exceptionally talented musician. Her soprano voice was clear as a winter's morning, and she played the harp and flute like a veteran member of the London Philharmonic. I saw something that looked similar to a guitar, which I played, so I was able to hold up my end of the band member bargain, albeit much less well than Bregedúr did. We sat there far longer than planned. Long enough that when we paused in playing, I nearly died of fright when I heard enthusiastic clapping from the music hall doorway to my left.

"Glorfindel!" I croaked as he bound over to us with his consummate grace and speed. He was smiling from ear to ear.

"What a delight! I was on my way to your office to meet you when I heard some exciting music playing! I am very glad I put my head in the door to see who it was," he raised his eyebrows at me, still grinning as he theatrically placed his hands on his hips.

"Sorry about that," I said contritely. "I don't usually get that absorbed when I have another appointment."

"No matter at all! I hadn't specified an exact time anyway, so this all went very well, really," he said. Phew. I said my goodbyes to Bregedúr and loped out with Glorfindel to the weaponry, and after finding a suitable sword and gauntlets, followed him to the training yards.

After our first training session, I was starting to think I'd have to take myself into therapy. A lifetime of growing up in a society forbidding self-defence with slicey-dicey weapons means, of course, no exposure to them unless you are unlucky enough to get caught up in knife crime. I imagined Glorfindel had planned for me to be able to correctly stand with and hold the sword, and block a few very slow, easy swings within the first hour. The reality was that when he lifted his sword, I usually let out a terrified squeak and scuttled away before he could even bring it within range of me. To his credit, though, he was very patient and seemed not to mind spending the majority of our three-hour lesson gently coaxing me back to try again.

"You have the patience of a saint," I murmured, ashamed as I walked back over and held up my sword for what was roughly the umpteenth time.

"And you have none?" Glorfindel asked with a knowing smile.

"That's beside the point," I replied, failing to keep a smile off my own face. "Right, so, sword up, feet apart…" I got into position and lifted up my sword, steeling myself yet again.

"Now, slowly, slowly…" said Glorfindel as he gently moved his blade toward me, "... and block!"

The urge to bolt was overwhelming, but I rooted my feet to the ground, tilted the sword and it met Glorfindel's with a gentle clang as it swiped off it again.

"Aha!" said Glorfindel triumphantly, as he clapped my shoulder encouragingly. "Already unlearning a lifetime's habits!" He looked at me proudly, and I stared at my newly broken-in blade in shock, saying nothing.

"Let's take it again, while it's fresh," he said quickly, straightening up.

We repeated this until darkness started to fall, and then decided to call it a day.

"Say, Glorfindel," I said to him as we made our way to the dining hall, "Do people here have any sort of sling they can tie between tree branches to use as a bed here?"

"Oh, yes," replied Glorfindel with a nod. "Why? Are the warm nights tempting you to sleep outside?" His face flashed with excitement, as though I had just invited him on a camping trip.

"As enjoyable as that sounds, it wasn't the reason I asked, no. It's for a therapy idea, as a matter of fact, but I need to be able to get my hands on one such thing to put my plan into action."

Glorfindel's walk became a little springier as he invited me to follow him for a quick detour to the weaver's.

A few minutes later, we found ourselves in what must have been a living dream for anyone who liked textiles or craft. The weaver's, which I had thought was going to be a small room with one person hunched over a loom was, in fact, a large, brightly-lit workshop and had at least ten people working at different machines. There were shelves on every square inch of wall I could see, all lined with sheets, tablecloths, fabrics, sacks- every kind of material imaginable. If one thing was certain, it was that the Imladris textile industry was unlikely to take a nose-dive any time soon.

"Wow," was all I could muster as we made our way to the closest person, a slender, dark-haired fellow with sparkling blue eyes, who smiled gently and welcomed us.

"Ah, Lord Glorfindel," he said, "And you must be Rhodri." He saw the surprise in my face, laughed softly and said, "Word travels fast in Imladris, especially in the weaver's. What can I help you both with?"

"We are in need of a hammock, Nathron," Glorfindel said. My shoulders slumped and I had to exert some effort not to smack my hand to my face then and there. Really? I'd gone to all that trouble to find an old-timey way to describe a hammock and they just whip the word out like it's nothing at all? God.

Either way, it panned out well, as the softly-spoken weaver nodded and strode over to a shelf in the corner of the room. He stepped on a wooden box and took a large bundle of material and brought it back.

"Will this one suffice?" He asked us. "It is the largest one we have, but I can fetch a smaller as needed."

"No, no, thank you, the larger the better," I said quickly. "This will be perfect."

We thanked the weavers and departed for the dining hall, stopping by my quarters on the way to drop off the hammock.

"Well?" said Glorfindel eagerly as we walked. "Are you going to tell me what grand plans you have for that hammock?"

"Ah, all in good time, friendo," I said. "First, you have a week's worth of journalling to do."

Glorfindel let out a melodramatic sigh, as though he would die of old age before a week would pass.

"Oh, please," I said. "Doesn't time speed by for you? I thought a week was like a blink of the eye for an Elf."

Glorfindel tutted so loudly he almost startled himself. "It usually does speed by, but time seems to have slowed right down since you scheduled a follow-up appointment with such exciting prospects."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, woe is meeee, the week is going by at a snail's pace because I might enjoy myself later," I said theatrically while opening my bedroom door and chucking the hammock inside. He pursed his lips in what was an attempt to both struggled to in character as the moody drama llama he sought to emulate, and stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of our overdone tragicomedy.

When we arrived at the dining hall, we saw Bregedúr waving at us and pointing at two spare seats beside her. I wasn't quite sure how she would be feeling after that conversation we'd had, and I sat down a little hesitantly. Bregedúr, however, was anything but hesitant, keen to hear about the afternoon's adventures and to share her own snippets. Well, I thought to myself as I hoed into a chicken leg, so far so good.

_Idhorwen_ (Sind.)- thoughtful maiden  
_Nathron _(Sind.)- weaver


	6. Trampoline magic

**Author's note: **After each diagnosis (and some of the more important differential diagnoses), I'll put in a paraphrased version of the DSM-5's diagnostic criteria for each disorder in something called **Psych Notes** at the end of the chapter. Feel free to PM me if you want any more information about any of the psychological concepts I discuss here. Note that this fanfiction is not a diagnostic tool or a source of medical advice. Always talk with a mental health professional if something's up! I'm proud of you and you can do the thing!

The rest of the week sped by like a dog on a skateboard. It had taken a few days to adjust to the new schedule I had set up for myself, but I finally got there in the end. Most of the issue came down to my new sleep needs. I had spent my entire life predicating the end of my day on the inevitable, delicious pull of intense sleepiness that would drive me into bed of a night, and now it was like waiting for a train that never came. Certainly, I could lie in bed and will myself asleep, but asking sleep to come to you and allowing yourself to be seduced by it were two different things entirely.

In the end, I reached a compromise and now entertained the sort of schedule five-year-old earlybird me could only have dreamed of: awake before sunrise to watch the sun come up, breakfast with Bregedúr, sequestering myself in the office until lunch- with both Bregedúr and Glorfindel, back to the office until the last hour of daylight, at which point I would take a walk with Elrond and shoot the breeze over an afternoon wine until dinner was ready. Usually post-dinner I would wind down by playing the guitar, reading, or researching until I dozed off on the couch, but now I could do all of those things and still have energy to spare! I designated after dinner as my free time to do whatever I wished, and the last three hours of the evening usually involved me making my way to the observation deck to learn a little about stargazing. By 3:30am, I would be washed and in bed, sleeping for an hour and a half. Rinse and repeat.

The week had sped by thus, and now the day of Glorfindel's next session had rolled around. I had made notes of the synopsis of Glorfindel's nightmare in our last appointment, which I used to make into a revised, non-nightmare edition with a few different twists. The trick was to have it resemble his usual dream as much as possible but edit one key detail that would change the end of it. Today was the day to examine those options with him, and also to have a check through his sleep diary to make sure his nightmare disorder was what I thought it was (at least as much as I could be sure without dragging him through time and space to a sleep clinic in Marylebone).

I was sitting at my desk in the afternoon, busily doodling a cartoon chicken when I heard a knock at my door. I looked up and there was Glorfindel, smiling brightly. I smiled back and invited him in.

"Welcome back," I said. "How did the diary go?"  
"Quite well, I think," he replied, handing me a small sheaf of papers bound with string. "I made as many notes as I could."  
"Let's have a lookie," I said as I started perusing the gorgeous, mildly sloping handwriting.

_Orithil: First meeting with Rhodri. Discussed nightmare and poor sleep. Felt uneasy but hopeful when Rhodri mentioned fixing it. Tea with Erestor. Played flute and sang after dinner. Sleep was poor. Jerked awake three times before falling asleep after two hours. Had the nightmare. Woke in a cold sweat, did not go back to sleep for fear of having the dream again._

_The nightmare: I am in Gondolin again, fighting the Balrog up on the mountain. We exchange blows for what feels like hours. Sometimes I nearly land my sword on it, sometimes its whip nearly cracks on my face. The fires coming from it heat up my skin and make it sting. The rocks under my feet wobble and make it hard to balance. Finally, I run a little higher up the rocks and jump. I turn in midair and drive my sword straight through the back of the Balrog's neck. I predicted this would make it tumble forward, but as it crumples and dies, it lurches backward, knocking me off the edge of the mountain. And I fall backwards, screaming, hearing the wind race past my ears until I land hard on the rocks below. A moment of horrific pain- and then I see nothing._

_Orgaladhon: Spent the morning discussing official matters with Elrond. Mood rather low on awakening, but Elrond is good company, so improved. Lunch, and then continuing with Elrond until the afternoon when I met Rhodri to fit her with a sword and teach her to use it. Very enjoyable, feeling happy. Dinner, then stargazing awhile. Read in the library, and then bed. Poor sleep again. Jerked awake twice. Had the nightmare again. Eventually fell back asleep. _

I browsed through the rest of the days, and noticed that the dream cropped up on days when Glorfindel had been swordfighting. The things we do through the day have a tendency to stick in our mind, especially if it's something that drums up strong emotion. In Glorfindel's case, talking about his nightmare kept it fresh in his mind, as did the swordfighting, even though he admitted he enjoyed sword fighting. Nightmare disorder requires there to be highly stressful, vivid dreams that wake the sleeper. The person can recall the dreams in great detail later on, unlike people experiencing sleep terrors who have no recollection of even having a bad dream. It has to make it hard for them to fall asleep again later, and they might experience negative emotions after like sadness and fear. He seemed to tick the boxes very well for it.

This is where it gets tricky sometimes, though, because for every one diagnosis you reach, you have to rule out about ten along the way, or make sure they're not happening alongside your diagnosis. Nightmares after trauma are also common in people with post-traumatic stress disorder- some 80% or more of people with PTSD report similar kinds of nightmares stemming from their trauma, which means a huge degree of overlap exists. Asking the right questions to exclude other disorders is crucial.

"Tell me, Glorfindel, do you ever relive that fight with the Balrog while you're awake?" I asked him as I closed the journal again.  
He shook his head. "No, I never really think about it while I'm awake. On the rare occasion it is brought up in conversation, I am not especially bothered by it, and can be perfectly open about it. Well, that is to say, the death was not something I would care to relive—and I do not enjoy reliving it in my nightmare, but I am otherwise unperturbed by it."  
"What do you feel when you think about Balrogs now?"  
Glorfindel shrugged a little. "Well, the one I was attacking is dead, but I am not afraid of Balrogs or other demons. In many cases, they are afraid of me," he said with a small smile. "There are few with the power to kill them, and I would do it again if needed, though I cannot envision that occurring any time soon."

Just from that, I had enough information to rule out that he was trying to avoid any situations that might bring the trauma up again, like quitting sword fighting, or not wanting to talk about it with others. He wasn't anxious about it happening again, or hypervigilant about Balrog attacks out of nowhere. This was not post-traumatic stress disorder.

"Well, Glorfindel, it seems like nightmare disorder is the most appropriate thing to describe what is happening right now. I want you to keep an eye out for anything of what we just discussed occurring through the day- feeling nervous you are going to be attacked, reliving the fight with the Balrog, or if you start feeling tense or angry for no reason, because then there might be something else afoot, but for now I think we should just work on your nightmares." I scribbled out a list of things to watch out for and gave it to him.  
"Ah, yes, the exciting bit," said Glorfindel, leaning forward in his seat and accepting the list. "When do we get to go camping?"  
"In a few weeks," I said with a laugh. "Let's work on your nightmares first, though. The Imagery Rehearsal Therapy is what I had in mind. Step one is writing out the dream, which you have already done. Step two would be to change the storyline a little- not so much that it bears no resemblance whatsoever, but rather, enough that it does not cause you distress. Whereabouts in the dream does the stress begin?"  
Glorfindel scratched his chin for a moment, and then said, "It is all thrilling to an extent, but certainly most stressful is when I realise I am falling off the mountain."

"Well, I have some suggestions as to how we could change the dream, if you are interested."  
He smiled and enthusiastically invited me to share my ideas.  
"The first thought that came to me was a trampoline," I began. As expected, Glorfindel looked at me with confusion, and I reached into my desk drawer and took out the keys to my house, which were on the hideous stretchy coiled plastic keyring that had given me the idea to begin with.  
"A trampoline is a sporting item where I come from. It is a large piece of fabric bound to a metal frame some way off the ground with a series of tightly-wound metal coils. A person stands in the middle and jumps on it, and the fabric will sag under their weight as the coils are pulled." I gave Glorfindel one end of the keyring to hold and pulled on it.  
"And then they are launched back up as the coils spring back to their tight-wound position, forcing the fabric to come back up." I let go of my end of the keyring and the coil gently snapped back at him. He caught it in an instant.  
"You could re-script the dream so that as you fall, you land on a trampoline and simply bounce back up, was the idea," I finished.  
Glorfindel's eyes were sparkling like diamonds as he looked at me now.  
"Admittedly," I added quickly, "We don't have trampolines here, but we can recreate something very similar by tying two ends of a hammock to a tree branch, and then I would be the springs, holding onto the other two ends and pulling them out so you bounce back up. All we'd need is a decent tree, and then we would be ready for action."

"Naturally, I want to give you other options, so if you'd rather skip all that, you could also re-script the dream so that you fall into water, but I thought if you have already dived into water from such a great height, you would have difficulty reconciling that in your head. Or, alternatively, you could change it even earlier on, so that as you jump out to stab the Balrog, you instead encircle it and slice its head off as you go around and land on the mountain," I made a half-circle with my finger. "It still dies, you still stick the landing."  
"Trampoline," said Glorfindel through a Cheshire cat-esque smile.  
"Are there other things you would also like to see in your dream?" I asked, trying to keep the atmosphere serious.  
"None beyond the trampoline," he replied.

Normally in imagery rehearsal therapy, it's all about writing the dream down and repeating it to yourself. I, however, have found that these things work much better if you can re-enact the modifying action, yourself. It makes things much more vivid and easier to summon up than whatever you have on paper. It also tied in well with Glorfindel's enjoyment of movement and physical activity, and being a fast-paced dream in itself, it continued on the speed and excitement of fighting and falling. This was going to be fun.

We locked up the office and headed outside, after which I requested that Glorfindel direct us to a tree that had a very strong and low-lying branch onto which I could tie the other end of the hammock. For safety purposes, I also made sure that I was strong enough to actually deal with this sort of physical strain. As we stood at the base of a mighty oak tree and tied the top two ends of the hammock to a branch sitting a metre and a half off the ground, I turned to Glorfindel and said, "Would you mind if I just tried lifting you up? Just to ensure I actually have the strength to bounce you around." Glorfindel looked incredibly amused by this, and consented straight away, holding his arms out to the side so I could pick him up. I had felt incredibly strong in this new body, but I wasn't sure to what extent this was the case, so I cautiously picked put my hands under his armpits and found that with very little strain, I could lift him over my head.  
"Christamighty," I murmured to myself."  
"Is everything all right?" Glorfindel enquired from his great height.  
"Oh, yes, quite fine, thanks," I said with a weak chuckle as I lowered him to the ground again. "Just a bit stronger than I remember."

"Now, what you want to do is climb the tree to that branch the hammock is tied to, sit on it, and just fall back onto the hammock, all right? We'll start slowly."  
In one deft leap, Glorfindel was perched on the branch. I held up my two corners of the hammock, and said, "Now, ease back into it. Gently does it."  
He lay into it like he was tipping back onto a bed, and landed square in the middle. I tugged a little on the corners to recreate a small bouncing effect.  
"Good, now let's take it up a notch. Sit up again and lean backward at full speed!"  
He scrambled up off his back like a graceful but drunken spider and threw himself back. I gripped the corners tighter this time and bounced him enough that he was forced upright on the hammock.  
"Excellent. Now crouch on the branch and fall back like that!"  
He did, and he bounced back onto his feet on the branch. We worked up to standing on the branch and then jumping off the branch, and his rebound went higher each time. It was magnificent to watch. He would have made a terrific trampolinist.  
"Once more, but this time, for maximum effect, go up one branch higher and fall off from that! When you bounce off, land on the earth on your feet! Think you can manage it?" There was a large clearing between the two branches which left ample room for Glorfindel to sail through.  
"Most definitely," he replied excitedly as he scaled up to the second branch, which sat some four metres off the ground. A long fall, but the hammock was strong, and Glorfindel even more so. He stood on the branch, edged backwards, and fell through the air for what felt like minutes. He hit the hammock and I jerked the corners, giving him such a bounce that he shot between the branches, whooping joyfully, and then landed on the ground a few metres away, as easily as if he had just slid off a barstool.

"Outstanding. Well, now you have a very small taste of what a trampoline is like," I said to him.  
"Yes… could we do it a few more times, do you think?" Glorfindel asked, his windswept hair making his smile look all the more wild. "You know, just to make sure it is very well cemented in my mind."  
I laughingly agreed.  
We ended up making sure it was "well cemented" for the next hour, until the sun had set and I had to make explicitly clear I would not trampoline in this manner after dark. He laughed good-naturedly and we made our way back to the office to the papers we had left on my desk.  
"Now," I said as we sat back down, "what we want to change is that when you land, instead of hitting the ground, you will land on a trampoline which will bounce you up, and you will land on the ground on your feet, pain-free. What I want you to do today is to write it down in your own words, and before you go to sleep each night, say to yourself, 'If I have this nightmare, when I fall off the mountain and…' That's when you read how it will change in your own words. After you have said it, visualise it happening. Visualise falling onto that hammock and springing back off it. It should be easy enough to do since you have actually done it now. Remember as much of it as you can each time you visualise it. Now, keep in mind that it might take some time for your brain to get in the habit of remembering it, but you must do it each night before you fall asleep, and that will cement it in very well, all right?"  
Glorfindel nodded and grinned broadly.  
"Excellent. So, do you have any questions?"  
He shook his head. "No, I do not believe so."  
At that moment, a bell started ringing outside. The dinner bell. I felt like one of Pavlov's dogs, my mouth watering as I thought of the heavenly food I was moments away from sinking my teeth into, the bell clanging all the while.  
"In which case, I think we're done for the day," I said, making a few quick notes before scuttling out with him to dinner.  
_

**Psych Notes**

**Nightmare disorder  
**\- Repeatedly waking up from terrifying, vivid dreams that the person can recall in detail later on  
\- After waking up from the terrifying dreams, the person is quickly able to orient themselves to time and place  
\- The dream, or the sleep disturbances it brings, causes significant distress and/or disrupts the person's social, personal, or working life  
\- The nightmares aren't due to other disorders that cause nightmares, such as post-traumatic stress disorder (see below) or delirium, and they aren't caused by medication or some other medical condition

**Post-traumatic stress disorder**

\- The person experienced a traumatic event that threatened their life or health, or the life and health of others, and in response felt very strong fright, helplessness, or shock  
\- One or more of these: The person relives the event through flashbacks, bad dreams, behaving like it's happening again, feeling deep distress when they see or feel things that remind them of the event, or physically reacts to seeing or feeling things that remind them of the event.  
\- Trying to avoid anything that reminds them of the event, and "numbness" from at least three of these: trying to avoid thinking, feeling, or talking about the event; trying to avoid people, places, or activities that remind them of the event, forgetting big things about the trauma; much less interest in activities that were important to them; feeling less attached to others; feeling emotions less strongly; thinking their life will be cut short  
\- Being constantly more stimulated than they were before the event- two or more of these: having trouble getting to sleep or staying asleep; being annoyed or losing their temper, concentration issues, being hyper-alert, 'freaking out' when startled.  
\- the last three dot points last for more than one month, and this disturbance has a big impact on working, personal, or social life or makes them very distressed in these areas.


	7. Leaf me in peace!

The first day it rained in Rivendell, I barely knew what to do with myself, which is a shameful sort of thing for a English person to say. Rain is an integral part of our identity. The human body is anywhere between 50% to 65% water, and in the case of the British body, it's 50% to 65% rainwater.

Since coming here, though, the rain hadn't fallen once. I ended up sleeping until 7:00 in the morning because the sunrise had been obscured by such thick, dark clouds. I must admit, for a few brief moments as I stirred awake and saw the foreboding shadow outside, I thought that I was about to relive the end of the world again.

"OH MY GOD!" I shouted furiously, throwing my blanket off as I sprang out of bed. "NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN! I—oh."

"_Rhodri_?" came a voice from outside. I heard hurried footsteps coming toward my room, and the door burst open as a worried Bregedúr burst in. "Are you all right? What is it?"

I stood there sheepishly in my pyjamas. My own shouting had woken me up properly from my half-dreaming state, and when I looked around properly, I saw rain falling from the sky.

"It's… ah… raining," I murmured, pointing pathetically out the window.

Bregedúr looked at me like I had just laid an egg.

"Yes, Rhodri, it is," she said in disbelief. "I hope this isn't how you usually react to rain, because you will suffer greatly here come spring,"

I couldn't help it. I laughed myself silly, and when I got my breath back, I explained my mistake to Bregedúr, who herself dissolved into a fit of the giggles.

"Get yourself dressed, you fool, and I'll show you what we do for fun on a rainy day."

I didn't need telling twice. I dressed myself in record time, grabbed Bregedúr by the arm, and we shot off to the dining hall to eat breakfast at a speed that would have made anyone else sick. I attributed the sudden rush of skittish energy to excitement. Something in me knew I was going to enjoy myself today, even though I had no idea what the day's activities entailed.

"Wurryurr 'ntenta somi, Gegur?" I vocalised to my friend through a mouthful of bread.

"Calm yourself, or else you will choke to death on your food and I shall not be able to show you anything!" Bregedúr affectionately scolded me. I scowled as much as a person could when their cheeks were fit to bursting with bread. With great effort, I swallowed my food and spoke again.

"Do excuse me," I said. "But fine, my mouth is empty now. What is it you intend to show me, then? I have a lucky feeling it will be very amusing."

"Your feeling's not wrong," she said with a wink. "Come on."

We snaked our way through the halls to a part of Imladris I had not seen before. It must have been the plains behind the waterfall, where a part of the river fed into a large, forested lake. There was a handful of people swimming and splashing around in it, and I could see people climbing up the absolutely colossal trees that bowed over, and partially entered, the water.

"Oh, we're going swimming!" I exclaimed happily. "Marvellous!" I loved swimming, and it had been a while since I'd gone to the pool back home, since I would habitually refuse to indulge their exorbitant entry fees.

"Not just swimming," Bregedúr replied, her eyebrows flicking up. "Get one of the bathing outfits for yourself," she pointed at a nearby wooden hut, "and meet me back here."

I dumped my things in one of the small, wooden boxes lining the shelves there, picked out a swimsuit and pulled it on. It was a curious garment, not unlike the Victorian-era men's swimsuits, only much looser. As with much of the Elven garb, though, it only looked odd until someone actually put it on, and then it was a Best On Ground sort of masterpiece.

Dressed in our fabulous costumes, we made our way down to the water, and I was met with a sight that made the child (and the adult, admittedly) in me squeal with excitement. Someone had carved out and varnished the insides of these networks of huge tree branches and made-

"Waterslides," I breathed, hardly daring to believe my eyes.

"They're better during the rain, as it makes them more slippery," said Bregedúr, "which is why I waited until today to show you. Do you forgive me for keeping it a secret from you this entire time?"

"Let me try out a slide while I make my mind up," I said playfully as we scaled the tree to the highest slide. The rain was pouring down so heavily that the slide looked like a gutter in monsoon season, so we zoomed along much quicker than I had expected and when we hit the end and landed in the pool, we cut through the water like a couple of torpedoes.

"Well, I think I can overlook your sins just this once, friendo," I said to Bregedúr, who splashed me as she rolled her eyes.

We had a grand old time for quite some hours in there, and eventually decided to start making our way back to the dining hall to get something to eat when an Elf with blond hair and deep brown eyes gently called to us and swam over.

"_Mae govannen_, I am sorry to interrupt you. My name is Tharanor. Are you the one they call Rhodri?" he asked me.

"_Mae govannen_, I am indeed," I replied.

"Ah, wonderful," he said with a nod. "I wonder, could I possibly speak with you a moment?" He looked at Bregedúr nervously, then me. I looked at Bregedúr and saw that she appeared to be thinking quite hard for a moment, after which she nodded, perfectly calm.

"I'll get changed and wait by your clothing for you, yes?" she said to me.

I smiled. She was doing well in noticing her own moments of hostile attribution bias, and seemed not to be offended by the guy's request to speak in private with me. I gave her a nod, saying "I'll be there in a moment."

After Bregedúr had swum away, Tharanor spoke again.

"I am told that you offer counsel on problems pertaining to behaviour," he said.

"Among other things, yes, I certainly do," I replied with a nod.

"Indeed. Do you work with children?"

"Well, I mainly work with adults, but I have worked with children and families also, yes," I said. In the time between acquiring my master's degree and finishing my doctorate, I was working in my university's family psychology centre as an assistant, meaning I could make assessments and plan treatment, but lacked the power to make clinical decisions. I explained this to him, and he nodded and rubbed his chin.

"You see," he said, "we are having problems with my youngest child, Turil."

"Oh?"

"Yes, she is constantly bringing handfuls of leaves into her room, and then becomes very upset when we ask her to take them out again, or when we try to take them out ourselves."

"That's curious," I said. "Well, I'm happy to have a look and see if I can help, but if I feel like it is not in my scope of practice, I will have to bow out, I'm sorry. Is that fine?"

Tharanor nodded quickly. "Yes, absolutely."

"I would be interested in seeing Turil's room, if you wouldn't mind," I said. "When would be a suitable day for me to visit?"

"You could come today, after lunch, if you wish."

"That will be fine. Just come to my office, just near Lord Elrond's study, after lunch to meet me and we will go to your place from there, all right?"

Tharanor nodded, said his thanks, and I headed off to find Bregedúr.

After we'd eaten, I said my goodbyes to Bregedúr and sat in my office, listening to the rain thrum on the roof as I continued my cartoon chicken drawing, which had now morphed into a ridiculous comic strip involving a court case and mandatory installation of crosswalks so it could safely make it to the other side. A knock at the door made me look up from my work, and sure enough, there was Tharanor, a tiny, nervous smile on his face. For someone whose name had the word 'vigorous,' in it, he certainly didn't behave that way, and his especially muscular build made for an even stranger juxtaposition between mind and body. I gave him a friendly smile back and invited him into my office.

"Now, if you don't mind," I began as I poured him a glass of water, "I just need to explain a few things." Cue five minutes of talking about ethics and the Ts and Cs, easily the five most boring minutes any person experiences in my office. His eyes were so close to glazing over, but he ploughed on through it and decided to sign the forms.

"Thank you for your patience," I said with a laugh. "Okay, before we set out, could you give me a bit more backstory regarding Turil and the leaves?"

Tharanor nodded and started to talk.

"Turil is four years old now, and has always loved the outdoors and everything in it. Trees, plants, animals, clouds—all of it. She would live outside if she could, I think," he laughed to himself, and then sighed. "Some few weeks ago now, she has started bringing in leaves and keeping them in her room. We initially thought it was because she was sleeping with her window open, and because it is early autumn and the leaves are beginning to fall, they must have blown in from outside. When my wife or I cleaned her room, we would dispose of the leaves, and she would become very upset with us."

"What would she do?"

"She would beg us to leave her friends alone, and would scream and cry, sometimes throw herself on the ground and bang the floor with her fists."

"Does she do this for anything else?"

"No, she is usually a very calm, happy child. I think I can count on one hand the number of times she has cried before this, and even then it was because she injured herself."

"Has she gone through anything traumatic lately? Someone dying or being hurt, perhaps?"

"No, nothing like that," Tharanor shook his head. "We have a very happy, calm home life together otherwise, but the leaf collection has become much worse this last week. We looked out the window as she played outside one afternoon and saw that she was picking each leaf carefully and putting them into a huge pile to bring inside. Now, she is collecting masses of leaves and hiding them all through her room, and they decompose wherever she has put them. There are now black patches all over the floor from where the leaves have rotted away and stained the floorboards."

I scribbled down a handful of notes, and then collected my thoughts for a moment.

"Well, I think we should be just about ready to set out for your house, but one final question: do you know anything about these friends she speaks of?"

"That could be anything," Tharanor answered with a sigh. "The clouds are her friends, the trees, the animals… she has a social network most can only dream of."

I chuckled and noted his answer.

"In which case, I think we'd better head over to your place for a closer look at Turil's room."

There can be a lot of reasons children hide things. Sometimes past experience, such as other children stealing their possessions, or living a life where lacking family finances allow ownership of anything, can give children the idea that they have to hide whatever they own, to save them from the pain of losing it again. Other times, it can be a symptom of an urge to hoard things that can be characteristic of obsessive-compulsive disorder or some other anxiety disorder, where the desire to keep things—even when they don't really want them- is so overwhelming that the child will feel irrational terror at the prospect at not being able to keep things. It could even be a learned behaviour- perhaps Tharanor and his wife also had a hoarding compulsion and Turil simply picked it up from them. I hoped there would be some other explanation, because I worried it would not be in my scope of practice to administer psychotherapy to such a small child.

Tharanor and I walked together on a path leading away from the main house out to another big house at the bottom of the waterfall. It seemed that many families here shared big houses, having a floor or several rooms to themselves, with big, private balconies for when they needed a break from communal spaces. The house they lived in had a splendid, airy feel to it, with small but unmistakable signs of having been lived in: a blanket on the back of the sofa, a wooden toy horse on the table, an open book on the kitchen counter. I felt at home right away.

We took a turn to the left and opened a door to a room I can only describe as part bedroom, part forest floor. There were leaves absolutely everywhere. On top of the bed, on all the shelves, the drawers in the dresser were all open and blanketed in them- I couldn't see a square centimetre of the floor for all the leaves. I don't think even Tharanor was expecting this many leaves to be in the room, as he let out a small, mortified gasp and said, "_Ai, Turil-nîn!_"

I was startled for a moment as a child stood up—I hadn't noticed any people, I had been concentrating so heavily on the leaves. She was a tall four-year-old, with a mop of white-blonde hair and huge, liquid brown eyes which were filling with tears as she anxiously looked up at her father.

"May I talk to her?" I asked him. He nodded.

I went over and stooped down so that I was eye-level with the child, and said, "Hello, Turil. My name is Rhodri. Your ada brought me to your house today so that I could see the leaves you've got in your room."

She watched me very carefully, saying nothing. I continued.

"I'm not here to remove them. I like leaves, too," I said with a smile. "They're very beautiful, aren't they?"

She nodded, a little more relaxed, but still wary.

"And this is a very special time of the year, with all the leaves turning such lovely colours. Walking through the leaves outside is one of my favourite things to do. Especially when I get a biiiig pile of them and throw them up in the air." I gestured like I was flinging something in front of my face. "Do you like to do that, too?"

Turil smiled. That was presumably a yes.

"What do you like best about your leaves in your room?"

She froze up for a moment and looked at her father fearfully. He looked genuinely confused by her look, hurt even.

I knew I wasn't going to get any details out of her while her father was present, so I had to find a way to sit comfortably with her while he was out, which is easier said than done when a stranger has just come into your bedroom.  
In my experience, children enjoyed speaking over shared activities, such as playing board games, or drawing, or building something. I stood up and asked Tharanor to fetch a game Turil liked to play, and he came back with what looked like a pack of animal-themed memory cards.

"Ooh, I love this game," I said enthusiastically. "Would you like to play it with me while Ada starts making dinner?"

She nodded shyly. I gave Tharanor a polite smile which he correctly interpreted as an invitation to leave the room.

We sat cross-legged and turned all the cards face-down over the carpet of leaves.

"Do you have a favourite leaf?" I asked her as I turned two mismatched cards up.

"No," she replied, much more calm now that her father was out of the room. "I like them all."

"All of them, huh?" I said. "Those leaves are very lucky to all be liked equally. How many do you have here?"

Turil flipped a fox card I had picked up, and then another one, and made a match. "Oh, a lot. I don't know exactly how many, but definitely a lot."

"Do you want more?"

"If I need to bring in more, then yes."

"So you only bring them in when you have to, you mean?" I clarified.

"Well, yes," she said, making another match.

"Do you… do you _like_ having leaves in your room?"

Turil sighed. This was getting curiouser and curiouser by the moment. I was starting to get the idea that she was experiencing the urges of anxiety to bring all the leaves inside to keep that feeling of irrational worry away. But then, she said, "I like keeping my friends safe."

_Her friends._ Had she befriended every leaf and wanted to save it from rotting outside after falling off the tree? Was there a witch she feared would steal her pile of autumn leaves to flop into?

I rubbed my chin as I turned up two more cards.

"It's always great to have friends looking out for you. You sound like a very good friend," I praised her warmly. "Are all these leaves your friends?"

Turil looked at me in confusion, and then said, "Oh, yes, the leaves are my friends, too."

"Too? Is there something else apart from the leaves?"

Turil gave me the polite but withering look so many children give a grown-up who just doesn't get it, and patiently said, "Oh, yes, I wouldn't just bring _leaves_ into the house. They make a terrible mess, don't you see?"

I nodded. "I certainly do. It must make your bed uncomfortable to sleep in at times." I glanced up at her bed, which looked so crunchy that my skin started to crawl at the thought of having to sleep in it.

Turil nodded, and flipped up a mouse card and a butterfly card.

"Well, what else is there apart from the leaves, then?"

Turil scanned the leaf floor, picked one up, and held it close for my face to look at. I examined it and saw that small things were crawling over the leaf.

"Turil, what are those?" I asked quietly. "They look like… tiny spiders?"

"Yes," she replied. "They're my friends."

"So have you been bringing these leaves in because they had spiders on them?"

"Yes, they live on the leaves and lay their eggs there," she explained like a tiny overworked and underpaid professor.

"Aha, I see. But spiders live outdoors usually, don't they? They don't need to live in a house like we do. How come they have to be inside?"

Turil's expression hardened. She glanced at the door to make sure her father was away, and then looked at me.

"Are you friends with spiders, too?" she asked me seriously.

"Spiders should be everyone's friend; they are a very important part of the world," I answered. "We need them to keep our world healthy." It wasn't an outright yes, as I had no close personal connection to spiders, but was happy to live and let live as long as they stayed out of my food. It was apparently satisfactory, though, because Turil beckoned me with one hand to lean in so she could whisper something.

"I have to keep them safe, so that people won't kill them all," she informed me.

"What makes you think people are going to kill all of them?" I whispered back.

"I heard Ada and Nana talking about it before. They said they hated them and wanted the scouts to go out and get them," she said in a hushed tone. Turil looked up at me now, her huge eyes filling with tears again. "I don't want them to hurt my friends. I love them," she said, sniffling as a tear fell.

"Ah, I see," I said.

It had clicked at last. Children are awfully perceptive, and pick up a lot more than many think- especially when people think they're asleep or distracted with something else. I got the impression she had overheard her parents talking about what must have been some rather bothersome spiders that required scouts to kill (I gulped at the thought of such large spiders existing), and took it to mean they wanted dead all the spiders in the vicinity. Thank god, this was something I could do something about, and right away, too.

"You know, Turil, I think we could reach an agreement with your parents so your friends stay safe. Will you let me talk to them for a moment and see what I can arrange with them?"

Turil looked up and nodded, her lower lip trembling.

"I'll be right back."

I stepped out of the room and headed into the kitchen where Tharanor stood with a willowy lady with ice-blonde hair and striking silver eyes, who I presumed was Turil's mother. They were preparing food together, and once noticing I had entered, turned around and looked at me anxiously.

"Good afternoon," I said politely to the woman. "My name is Rhodri."

"Mae govannen," she greeted me back in a gentle voice. "I am Laerien. Have you been able to speak with Turil?"

"I have, yes. She is collecting the leaves and bringing them indoors to protect the small spiders that live on them. She mentioned something about overhearing the two of you talking of how you hated spiders and wanted them all dead. Do you recall having any such conversation?"

Tharanor had clapped his hand to his head before I'd even finished my question.  
"Ah!" he said, looking pained. "It must have been that night we spoke of the Mirkwood forces being encroached on by the giant spiders there," he said, turning to his spouse.  
"We had had news that the situation had worsened of late," Laerien explained to me.  
"Ah, I see," I said. "Well, look, how big do these leaf-dwelling spiders your daughter has granted asylum to _actually grow_?"  
"Oh, they will not grow any larger than a grain of sand," Laerien answered.  
"Right," I said, inwardly sighing with relief that at least these weren't going to get to the size of a small automobile.  
"In which case, I think what is called for is an open discussion about what you were talking about, in which you make it very clear that this is not happening here but in Mirkwood, and the reason people are fighting spiders in Mirkwood is because they are very big and dangerous and want to hurt people. Explain they are fighting the spiders to keep the people of Mirkwood safe. Make sure she knows that _these_ spiders in her room are safe from that sort of turmoil, and that they will need to be set free outside because there is no food indoors for them to eat."

The parents looked relieved at this, and together, the three of us made our way to Turil's bedroom again.  
"Turil?" I said as I knocked on the doorframe. Turil looked up at me expectantly.  
"I had a word with Nana and Ada, and we made a good deal. Your friends are safe. I'll let your parents tell you about the deal we've reached, all right?"  
The kid's eyes lit up, and a hopeful smile crept across her face. I couldn't help but smile, myself.  
"I'll leave you to it," I said to the parents. "Hop a bit more out of earshot in future, and come up to my office any time if there's anything else, yes?"  
"Yes, Rhodri, thank you very much" said Tharanor, Laerien nodding emphatically beside him.  
I said my goodbyes to the three of them and saw myself out, singing _Splish Splash_ as the rain drenched me all the way up to the dining hall.

_Tharanor _(Sind.)- vigorous sun  
_Turil _(Sind.)- brilliant strength  
_Laerien _(Sind.)- summer-daughter


	8. Friends with benefits

"You know, Elrond, this afternoon walk and wine thing we've got going on is great. We really should make a habit of this," I said to him as we sat on the balcony adjoining his study, sipping wine and playing a game of checkers in the lazy afternoon sun.

"We _have_ made a habit of this, Rhodri," Elrond reminded me as he jumped one of his red pieces over my black one. "We've been making a habit of it for the last year. You've even named it 'Happy Hour.'"

"I know," I said casually. "I was just checking you were paying attention."

Elrond laughed and shook his head. He was a curious sort. The process of getting to know him was reminiscent of mapping out an iceberg: the deeper I got, the more I realised I had yet to learn about him. It left me feeling distinctly shallow in comparison until I reminded myself that he was about 55 times my age.

My afternoons with Elrond were unfailingly delightful. I have always been the perpetually impulsive, ecstatic jumping bean of my friends, and often attract similarly loud and energetic folks (cases in point: Bregedúr and Glorfindel). I find, however, that I nurse a particularly soft spot for the quiet, cautious, introverted people in my life. Whether this is a case of opposite personalities complementing each other beautifully, the fascination of novelty, or perhaps even some desire to emulate these mature traits, I was not sure.

What I did know was that we both left Happy Hour the better for it. Elrond came out making progressively sillier jokes, his smiles were broader, and he seemed more optimistic. I would emerge relaxed, less easy to startle, and more able to enjoy the moment. We did each other good, and were open with each other about how we valued our friendship.

Our hours on the balcony were spent swapping stories, news, and opinions, making observations, and teaching each other what we could. On this particular day, we had lapsed into a small silence as we focused on the game. But then we finished (Elrond having won, of course), and the silence continued.

"Is something the matter, Elrond?" I asked as we packed up the checkers game. "You've been impressively quiet this afternoon, outdoing even your usual standard of reticence."

"Rhodri, could I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything you like," I replied.

"But I want you to answer me as my friend, not as a psychologist," he added.

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

"How am I?"

I looked at him blankly. That was a very open-ended question that had a lot of possible interpretations.

"What sort of an answer do you want?" I asked after a moment.

"Well, an honest one that's tactfully put, if possible. But in terms of details, I want to know how you think I am faring in life."

"Am I really the one to tell you that, Elrond? Our ideas of success and fulfilment might not align, and so my answer might either make you complacent when you do not wish to be, or unnecessarily make you feel lacking when you are not."

"That is a risk I am willing to take," he replied serenely.

I was in a slightly difficult position here. He did not wish to be psychoanalysed, which is fair, but he was asking someone who gave psychiatric help for a living to give an informal assessment of him. He had not come to me in my professional capacity as yet, and so I had not ever formally assessed him, but I had a feeling he had a fear of abandonment which impacted his life now somewhat. I had mentioned it to him only in passing, and he brushed it off, which was probably why he only wanted the opinion of a friend and not a therapist: Elrond wasn't ready yet.

There's not much that you can do to help someone unless they want to help themselves, and that's one of the biggest guarantees for any psychological intervention. You have to want to change, and also be willing to put in the work to get there. I had a gut feeling that he would, at some point, come to me in my professional capacity, too, but that was a long way off.

For today, I decided I would stick to agony aunt sort of topics, like relationships, motivation, hobbies, and money. Instead of being the psych, I would simply be that friend who 'has seen quite some shit.'

I sighed and thought about his question for a moment. "Very well, I will answer, but you must keep in mind that I am a fraction of your age, so my answer could be inaccurate."

"You act nothing like your age. Please proceed if you wish to," he made a polite gesture inviting me to speak.

"Well, Elrond, you have had an extremely difficult start in life," I began. "Being born into an active war zone is not enviable in the least, and it cost you your mother and father, the rest of your family, and your home."

I looked up at him, aching a little on his behalf. That loss was a feeling I knew all too well, and the kind smile he gave me only made the pain worse. Such a good person, put into such awful circumstances. I drew a deep breath, and kept talking.

"And then there was the loss of Maglor on top of that, who, though he had expressed contrition over his oath to his father, was, at the end of the day, still partly responsible for the horrors that befell you and Elros in Valinor."

"I also cannot imagine what it is like to lose a twin, even though you would have had some yén to prepare for it. Hearing Elros choose mortality like that must have been… well, crushing, really. And then, after all that hardship, you go on to fight under Gil-Galad and rise to the very top, second only to him in authority. That's an incredible effort." I nodded for emphasis.

"And now, here we sit, some few yén later, on a balcony in your own established settlement of Imladris. Such a turnaround in circumstance is something most of us could only dream of, I think. You are an exceptional healer. I cannot fault how you run the place; you lead with grace and wisdom, and on top of it all, you have a sterling character. Unswervingly kind and generous, loyal, and well-intentioned. You're loved by many, respected by even more. So ostensibly, you're faring very well."

Elrond was staring at the closed-up checkers board, and seemed to be rather deep in thought with what I had just said, and started to say, "Hmm-" when I gently raised my hand to interrupt him.

"However," I said.

He looked up and politely awaited my next monologue.

"I have had this impression for some time that you're not wholly content with things as they are now, which changes the answer somewhat."

He raised his eyebrows, and then lowered them again.

"Mmm," was all he said, nodding briefly.

"And look, it's perfectly fine—within reason, of course—to desire change. It's often the impetus for personal growth. But I get the feeling you think something is missing from your life. So, as a friend, I'd still say you're faring well, but you haven't quite reached where you want to be yet, and that has some small impact on your mood, bearing, maybe your manner a little as well."

My friend sighed, and turned his gaze to the setting sun.

"How did my answer line up with the answer you would have given?" I asked him.

Elrond hummed for a moment under his breath and, still not making eye contact, spoke.

"It was rather the same as mine," he said quietly. "I hoped it would be. To be frank with you, Rhodri, I feel very guilty for not being wholly content with life as it is now."

"Why is that?" I asked. "I suppose this goes beyond the usual sort of distress that comes with an impending war with Mordor, does it?"

Elrond looked at me, a little surprised that I had been so blunt about the topic everyone in Rivendell had been studiously avoiding. "Well, when you put it like that, I suppose so."

"Hey," I said, pointing at him affably, "You wanted me in friend mode, not psychologist mode. That means unsolicited, personal opinions, a distinct lack of sugar coating, the occasional expletive, and deep and abiding affection." I smiled sweetly. Elrond, bless him, took this in his stride and nodded. I saw fit to continue.

"Do you think you are greedy to want more than what you have presently?"

He nodded, and said nothing further. Getting information out of an upset Elrond, as I had had to do more than once this year, was like getting blood out of a stone. Not because he didn't want to talk, but because he wanted proof that the person had been listening and paying attention to him before he divulged anything personal. I knew this, and he knew I knew it, though we did not speak it. It had created an unspoken social ritual between us in which I did the digging and he made the information readily available for extraction, and then I would share my inferences and set the scene. If I had done it correctly, Elrond would typically crack, and finally open up. It was time for my implicitly solicited opinion.

"If I may, I would like to elaborate on the last part of my answer to your question," I said, preparing myself for the improvisation and attempted mind-reading I was about to undertake.

Elrond was polite enough to feign pleasant surprise at this request. He nodded and made an inviting gesture, holding his wine in his hand in an attempt to make himself look busy as I got started.

"I think the missing part is a family, friendo," I said gently. "It was taken away from you, bit by bit, and I don't doubt you must feel lonesome at times. You can be surrounded by beloved friends—best friends, even, but they do not necessarily become so intimately involved in day-to-day life as immediate family- parents and siblings while growing up, and then later on, if one desires it, a spouse and children."

"It's not for everyone, of course," I added quickly. "Some like to live alone; others prefer to live with friends. We are all different. But I think you are a steady, affectionate sort of person who enjoys the quiet home life, and, if you wanted it, you would be an excellent husband and father. So, Elrond, how did I go in my guess?"

Elrond drained the last drops of wine in his glass and set it on the table.

"Do you know," he said quietly, "I think that is precisely what it is. I see people all day, and yet I feel lonely—no offence meant to your company, of course," he added quickly, putting up a hand.

"A friend is _not_ the same as a spouse, Elrond, not even a best friend," I said, waving his pre-apology away calmly. "If you started wanting all of us to marry you, then I would have to take issue."

Elrond giggled a little. "So I am not greedy for not feeling entirely content yet?"

"Well, look," I said plainly to him, "had you said this to me when you were a teenager, or a young adult of 20 or 25, I would have told you—as friends do—to take your head out of your arse and start finding meaning in life that goes beyond your relationships. But you know, you're over 1700 years old, now, so from what I've seen, if you've come this far, you've done an absolutely cracking job of finding meaning in life outside of personal relationships. You're allowed to want a family."

"A family," he echoed in a whisper as his eyes shone just for a moment. I don't doubt that in that moment, he saw himself as a delighted parent and spouse in his mind's eye.

"I think I would love to have a family," he murmured, half to himself, half to me. Aha. That was it. He'd opened up.

After admitting this, Elrond appeared slightly more mollified, and looked out at the sunset as though he were actually observing it this time, not just attempting to seem occupied to get out of making eye contact.

"It'll be okay, you know, El," I said. "The right person will turn up at some point. In the meantime, it'll go easier if you spend your energies on making yourself and your life as wonderful as can be until they arrive, like preparing a house for guests. It'll make you happier as an individual while you wait, and when the person arrives in your life, you'll have more to enjoy together. Whenever you get lonely, I want you to tell yourself this: the best is yet to come. Say it again and again until you feel better. And look, tell you what, I'll keep half an eye out for any eligible singles on your behalf as well, hey? Four eyes are better than two," I grinned.

"Rhodri: psychologist and matchmaker," Elrond laughingly mused. "Very well, I gratefully accept any services you might offer."

We sat there in a much more comfortable, amiable silence after that, watching the sky dim as the sun sank out of sight and the opportunistic stars crept into view.

"It is an excellent thing," he remarked to me, "having friends with special skills, like you with your psychology. They can assist more readily in that issue than one's other friends, and one can assist them in turn with one's own skill better than others might. Very beneficial, really."

"Mmm," I said in happy, inarticulate agreement, bringing my wine glass to my lips to enjoy the last mouthful.

He sat there for a second, considering his own words, and then said contentedly, "The joys of friends with benefits."

I suddenly started choking on my wine. Elrond never found out why.


	9. The involuntary wallflower

Not long after that fruitful exchange with Elrond, Sauron's forces lay siege to Imladris. It led to a miserable year of being locked away indoors, as far away as possible from the firing line of any long-range attacks from the surrounding armies. I saw nothing of Bregedúr, Elrond, and Glorfindel during that time- unsurprisingly, of course; all people fit to fight were on call to assist with the war effort, and they, in particular, were on the front lines.

That's not to say that I had much time to feel lonely, of course. The spouses and parents who remained at home were in a near-constant state of distress, and though, realistically, there was nothing to diagnose, there was plenty to treat. My clinic became so full that I ended up having to bring in group sessions just so everyone could get seen. It was _that_ busy.

Thankfully, with the help of other Eregion Elves, Sauron's forces were eventually driven out of everything east of the Misty Mountains. My heart leapt when I saw Bregedúr, Glorfindel, and Elrond coming up the hill, the wintry early-morning sun glowing listlessly behind them. I let out a whoop of joy and, abandoning all sense and propriety, bolted to them and caught them in my arms, crushing the three of them as I lifted them up all at once.

"I-_Rhodri!_" squeaked Elrond in disbelief (and possibly mild to moderate embarrassment).

"Someone is happy to see you three," came a smooth baritone voice from behind my mid-air friend sandwich. I didn't recognise the sound. Setting my companions down, I looked behind them and saw a huge, broad-shouldered Elf with light brown hair and shining indigo eyes smiling down at me. He was caked in dirt, as every other returning fighter was, and seemed to be in a very chipper mood.

"Oh," I said quickly, smiling up at him. "I'm happy to see you, too! What's your name?"

Elrond's mouth fell open. Glorfindel, Bregedúr, and this towering stranger, however, laughed heartily.

"I am Ereinion Gil-Galad," he said.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir," I replied with a deferential nod. "Rhodri's the name."

"Oh, I already know who you are," Gil-Galad said to me with a chortle. "I have heard quite a bit about you from these three."

It was interesting to note, as we walked together up to Elrond's house, how similar small talk is across races. Niceties like "I've heard so much about you," or fitting remarks about the weather were equally as enjoyed here as in my old world.

In fact, I was able to transplant so much of the polite chatter I had used as a human into my conversation with the Elves that I foolishly thought it would be safe to go on autopilot. Not a moment after that fateful decision, I showed myself up by asking the time-honoured British transport enquiry: "So how did you all get here?"

The four of them looked at each other, then at me. Their faces were a mixture of blankness and wondering if they really had been asked such a fatuous question.

"Well, by horse," said Glorfindel, failing to keep the amusement out of his voice. "How else would we have gotten here? Flown, maybe? What a thought!"

The four of them had a good laugh at that, and I did too, relieved that Glorfindel had saved me from having to spend an hour explaining how planes worked to people whose most advanced cross-country transportation medium was a horse and cart.

Less than an hour later, preparations for a huge feast that evening were already well under way. I was surprised there wasn't widespread call for plumbers as these returning soldiers showered; there must have been several tonnes of dirt deposited into the pipelines in the initial hours after their arrival. En route to my office, I could see the tables in the dining hall already being loaded up with all manner of fruits and breads. This was going to be a night to remember.

I had been working on my ever-growing chicken comic most of the day, when about two hours before the feast was due to begin, a confident, strong knock came at the door. I glanced up and saw Gil-Galad standing there, now bathed, groomed, and wearing robes the same colour as his eyes. A small, silver circlet adorned his head. He looked immaculate.

"Hello, Gil-Galad," I greeted him pleasantly.

"Good afternoon, Rhodri. I wonder, do you have a moment?"

"I have many moments," I replied, welcoming him in. He smiled gratefully as he closed the door behind him and approached my desk. "Sit yourself down and have something to drink," I invited, pouring him a glass of water.

"Thank you," he said, accepting the glass. "I, ah, was told by Elrond that you dispense advice for matters of the mind."

"Certainly do," I confirmed with a nod.

"Excellent," he said. "In which case I would appreciate your opinion on a situation of mine."

After subjecting the poor sod to the necessary ethics and confidentiality business and getting the green light, Gil-Galad seemed ready to speak, but was rather overcome. I noticed beads of sweat forming on his brow, and could tell he was panicking.

"Are you having trouble knowing where to start?" I asked after a couple of minutes' silence.

Gil-Galad laughed an unnaturally high, false sort of laugh. "No, no," he said. "I know where to start, but I lack the nerve to begin." His cheeks began to redden. "Imagine a king, lacking the courage to speak," he murmured, thoroughly ashamed.

I smiled reassuringly. "I don't need to imagine it," I said. "I have encountered nervous royalty more than once. You are not the first monarch to feel this way, and you will not be the last."

Gil-Galad looked surprised, but accepted what I had said with a nod. Still, though, he remained silent, and the sweat continued to pour from his brow. He was nervous because there had been silence, and it had choked his ability to speak, even though he knew what he wanted to say. Perhaps he had found the silence threatening, maybe feared another one coming up after he spoke. He might even have been worried that I had been using the silence to scrutinise him. It could have been any number of things. Whatever it was, he had focused on the silence too intensely and found it disarmingly awkward.

Fortunately, I had a fix for that. I took a checkers set from the bookshelf behind me and set it up on my desk between us.

"Play a round with me while you think of where to start," I said, pushing the checkers board a little closer to him. "It'll help you concentrate. Do you want red, or black?"

He chose red, and as we got into the game, he became visibly calmer in moments.

"It's about this feast tonight," he said after making the first move.

"Oh, yes?" I moved a piece forward.

"Well, not just this one. It happens on any social occasion where I have to be in close contact with strangers or people I seldom speak with. Feasts and parties are the worst, but even one-to-one can be difficult."

"What happens when you have to do it?" I asked.

"I become anxious long before I even see anyone," he said. "I sweat, my hands shake, my heart hammers, and my confidence vanishes. It is nerve wracking in the extreme."

"Does it only happen when you have to talk to strangers or acquaintances?"

"Yes, I have no trouble with friends, or when I am busying myself with something." He jumped one of my checkers.

"I see. What in particular do you find nerve wracking about having to speak with strangers?"

"It feels like… well, as though I never have anything to say to them, and then I fear it will become evident that I am nervous, and that others will respect me less for it. Worrying about it makes it even worse."

I swore inwardly as he jumped another of my checkers. "I see. So what are you doing to handle this at the moment? I imagine socialising must be a large part of your job."

"It is, and I manage it quite poorly. Simply by only holding parties as necessary to maintain good relations with other rulers, and avoiding conversing with strangers where possible. But this is absurd. The whole thing is absurd! A king with nothing to say! The idea of it." His face was twisted in a mix of shame, sadness, and anger.

Probably one of the biggest misconceptions people have about mental health issues is who it affects. Folks entertain ideas about the kind of people affected by certain disorders that borders on superstition, and a surprising amount of my job involves setting the record straight. From what he had described to me, Gil-Galad was experiencing social anxiety- an unusually strong fear of being in social situations and of being scrutinised by other people- strong enough that it impacts their job or social life. He seemed to be under the impression that by virtue of being a monarch, he should be immune to such disorders. That was harmful, because all it did was make him ashamed of himself, which only made the problem worse. It was a misconception that had to go, right here, right now.

"Tell, me, Gil-Galad, what makes you think that someone of your position is not liable to experience nervousness in social settings?" I asked him.

Gil-Galad looked at me, speechless again, only this time, he seemed not to know the answer at all.

"You did not become one of a mythical, flawless race when you were crowned High King, Gil-Galad. You are still an Elf, with all of the associated strengths and shortcomings."

"But I have never seen another king-or, indeed, any queen- have troubles like this!" he protested. "They are talkative, charming, and they seem to have an unending reserve of lovely words for anything!"

"Aha," I said, holding a finger up. "You are exactly right. They _seem_ to have an unending reserve! But they do not always! There is a very popular saying in my homeland that was attributed to immense success: 'fake it 'til you make it.' Do you know what that means?"

Gil-Galad blinked so hard I could have sword I heard his eyelids clap, and he shook his head. "I know all of those words, but the context you have put them in is… baffling."

"I'll explain," I said. "Tell me, what would you do differently if you knew what to say to people?"

"Well, I would make many friends, I imagine, and would not hesitate to approach people I didn't know. I would throw more parties, and I expect I would enjoy myself a lot more."

"Right!" I said encouragingly. "So then you must pretend that you already know what to say until you truly believe that you do. It is not as though you are unable to communicate. You have an enormous vocabulary at your disposal; you are knowledgeable, and you are no doubt interested in many things. All the tools are there. Fake it- pretend that you are something- until you make it- meaning until you _become _that something. That's what most people are doing, you know."

Gil-Galad dropped the checker he was holding and looked at me, absolutely thunderstruck. "But- but that's deceitful," he stammered.

"Are you sure about that, Gil-Galad? It sounds to me like the only deceit going on here is the little voice in your head telling you you aren't able to communicate with others." His shoulders slackened, and he looked down at the checkerboard, saying nothing.

"I saw for myself how confident and joyful and full of conversation you were with Elrond, and we both know how quiet he gets. That looked like the true Gil-Galad to me."

Eyes still down, I saw a hint of a smile. I had one, too. Elrond had such a magical way of bringing out the best in people, and the magic lay just as much in what he _didn't _say as what he did say. Anyone who knew and loved him smiled when they thought of him, too.

"To be honest with you, Gil-Galad," I said, "I think that you can overcome this completely. Not overnight, of course. Your social ability is a muscle that has to be used regularly. It'll take constant practice, but I do believe you can beat it. For tonight, I think what we should do is make a plan and have a few pointers for conversations. How does that sound?"

He nodded. I took out a piece of paper and started making a list. "First up, I want you to start easy. Pick a couple of people- say, Elrond and Glorfindel, and stay by them for a while. Watch how they talk with others, how they treat moments of silence."  
"Which brings me to my next point! Silence is not the enemy. I repeat: silence is _not_ the enemy! When things get quiet with Elrond, what do you think is going on?"

Gil-Galad wrinkled his brow a little. "I suppose I assume he is enjoying the moment. Maybe collecting his thoughts, or simply has nothing to say."

"Excellent. Keep those things in mind when things get a little quiet. Now, for revitalising the conversation, I'm going to tell you what really gets people talking. Are you listening?"

He nodded and watched me closely.

"Taking an interest in them," I enunciated clearly. "People love to talk about themselves. Have them tell you more about something they're interested in. Someone mentions they did great in archery? Great! Get them to tell you about how that went. Ask how their life is going. What they think about how things are going in their kingdom. You're a king. You oversee everything; you'll never run out of things to ask about. Not only will they feel heard, but you'll be a better king for it. I guarantee you, if you listen- genuinely listen to- and care about what they're saying, you'll have people drawn to you like moths to a flame."

There was a small smile tugging at the corner of Gil-Galad's mouth now.

"And look, if you need to escape from the party for a while, come find me, and we'll head back to my office and do a little bit of troubleshooting, all right? I've got plenty more of these sorts of tips, but try those few first and see how you go."

I made one last note and handed him the list. He took it and scanned through.

"_Be gentle with yourself_?" he said, looking up at me in confusion. It was the note I had scrawled at the bottom.

"Do it," I said. "Do it frequently."

Gil-Galad folded the list, placed it in his pocket, and then turned back to the checkers board, where he jumped his piece over my last remaining one.

"Looks like I win," he said with a smile. I scowled playfully.

"Now, now," he said to me with a twinkle in his eye. "Be gentle with yourself, Rhodri."

I snorted and shook my head, and we both left the office.

**Psych Notes**

**Social anxiety disorder**

\- Anxiety about social situations where the person could be scrutinised by others, e.g. in parties, when performing, while eating/drinking  
\- The person worries about symptoms of nervousness being taken badly, e.g. laughed at, causing offence, making things unpleasant  
\- The relevant social situations always spark anxiety  
\- The person tries to avoid those situations, or feels nervous the whole way through if unavoidable  
\- The person feels and acts like the situation is far more threatening than it actually is  
\- The anxiety lasts at least 6 months  
\- The anxiety has an impact on the the person socially, personally, or at work  
\- The anxiety is not because of drugs or another medical condition, and is not the result of another mental disorder that has social anxiety as a symptom  
\- The anxiety is not because of something that can make a person more vulnerable to intense scrutiny (e.g. an obvious physical disability), or if it is, the anxiety is still excessive relative to what that obvious thing is. 


	10. Reality check

**Author's note: **Heya! Big sorry for the last upload with all the formatting left in. I have no idea how it happened, and really appreciate FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff pointing it out. Thanks fren! :D  
Also, I need to state for the record that I am a huge jim who is still working out how to use this site, which on top of getting so absorbed in writing this stuff makes for glacially slow replies to comments. I'll get there if I don't forget, but while I'm here: I appreciate you lovely folk saying g'day and reading my scribbles. That's mighty kind of you and means a lot to me!

I cannot overstate how excited I was for that feast. I had intentionally skipped lunch to make room for all the food I intended to eat, though to be honest, in terms of my appetite, skipping a meal didn't seem to make much difference either way these days. In fact, in much the same way as I never felt tired any more, I never really felt hungry or thirsty, either, and irrespective of what I ate and drank, my body and wellbeing did not change.

I had done pretty well with almost entirely quitting sleep. Food, however, was a whole other kettle of fish. I didn't make any efforts to get food or drinks out of my schedule at all. I loved the social aspect of food, I enjoyed the taste and texture, and valued the predictability it kept in my schedule. It was decidedly odd, though, and a part of me missed the noisy grumbling of an empty belly.

The strangeness didn't end there, though, as it happens. It had also come to my attention that I could change quite fundamental things, such as eye colour, body composition, height, and even hair length.

It was so tempting to change from a medium-height, light brown-haired, grey-eyed, fairly thin sort into a massively tall, ultra-muscular redhead with shocking yellow eyes, just to mess around with people, and I was going to do it at the feast tonight, but then I realised I wouldn't fit my robes, and nudity was strictly forbidden in Elrond's halls.

Conceding defeat, I emerged from my room as my 'normal' self, albeit slightly better dressed than usual, and followed the smell of food, keen as a bloodhound, all the way to the dining hall.

Well, didn't I feel like I had hit the jackpot. I stepped inside and was greeted by the sight of mountains of food on various tables set up around the hall. At a glance, I would have guessed that I was in the presence of some two or three million calories, and that was only what I could see here, not counting what was stockpiled away in the kitchens.

I turned around when I heard a voice from behind me.  
"Ah, Rhodri! There you are." It was Elrond, dressed to the nines (though he usually was), standing with Gil-Galad. They smiled at me warmly. I smiled back.

"Come and sit with Gil-Galad and me, and we'll wait for Glorfindel and Bregedúr to arrive," he said, motioning me to follow them as he made his way to the head of the table.

I was touched. I had assumed that Elrond would probably be in rather high demand tonight from his officials, and had planned to just find a place wherever I could at the table, but he wanted me to sit with him, in our happy little group.

For a brief moment, I was lost in the overwhelming joy that comes with knowing a friend cared for me as much as I did for them. I was snapped out of it when Elrond turned around and saw I was back there.

"Rhodri? Are you coming?"

"Right behind you!" I scuttled along after them.

Glorfindel and Bregedúr came along shortly after, which was good, as the hall was starting to fill up quite quickly. The five of us started loading up our plates, and fell into that interesting pattern of bursts of conversation interspersed by periods of quiet as we intensively stuffed our faces.

In one of the moments of quiet as we were packing our food away, I noticed that there were quite a number of Elves who didn't quite seem like the variety I was accustomed to here. They were somewhat shorter, and sported more earthen colours than the usual jewel and pastel colours that featured in the Imladris look book.

"Say, who are the shorter Elves?" I asked the group.

"Oh! They are the Silvan Elves of Mirkwood," explained Glorfindel.

"They live to the east of the Misty Mountains in the huge forest there," added Bregedúr.

"Ah, these are the people with the spider problems," I mused.

"Oh, my word, yes," said Gil-Galad with a laugh. "Those spiders are a terror."

I went against my better judgement and enquired further. "How… ah… big do these spiders get?" I asked nervously.

Gil-Galad frowned. "Ah, let's see, the biggest one I ever encountered on a visit to Oropher was probably from this end of the table to… hmm…" he looked down the table and eventually pointed at the sixth or seventh seat down. "Down to about where that plate of grapes sits- that's the size without including the legs," he added.

"Christ on a segway," I murmured as I stared wide-eyed at my food. I looked up again and delivered another rapid fire question: "How big do the spiders get here, by the way?"

Elrond touched his index finger to his thumb like he was making the 'OK' sign. "Comparatively tiny," he reassured me.

"Whattarelief." I heaved a sigh and speared a potato.

"The Mirkwood Elves are important trading partners," Elrond continued. "Much of our alcohol and certain wood supplies come from Oropher's realm. We, in turn, send textiles and honey, so it is a rather mutually beneficial arrangement."

"I see," I mused. "So is Oropher here tonight? Can you point out which one he is?"

"He is indeed here," came a voice from two seats down.

I turned sharply and saw a rather formidable-looking Elf looking back at me. He had white-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, and his head was adorned with a wrought gold circlet in the shape of a leaf crown.

"Rhodri, this is King Oropher. Oropher, Rhodri is Imladris' psychologist," said Elrond, gesturing between us indicatively.

"Ah, so you're the psychologist!" Oropher said, pointing at me. "Yes, I have heard about you and your counsel. I wonder, would you be interested in assisting my grandson? He has a terrible fear of spiders, which simply won't do in Mirkwood."

"I-I'm happy to help in any way I can," I stammered out, slightly shocked that someone would voice psychological issues to a stranger at the table- someone else's psychological issues, no less. "If he is interested, just send him to my office whenever he's ready. I'm right by Lord Elrond's study, so you can't miss it."

"Yes," he continued on. "He is terrified of even the smallest thing- the boy is two hundred years old, and still cringes at even the mention of them. Why, only the day before we left to fight against the siege, he looked as though he was about to cry for fear of seeing spiders as we passed through the forest!" He laughed a little.

I had to exert some effort to stop my mouth from falling open. This was incredibly inappropriate- but what do you say to a royal, lest it sour diplomatic relations?

"Ah, well, we all have our cross to bear," I said quickly, and as Oropher's sneer twisted in a confused expression, I seized the opportunity to cut him off again. "You know, I've always loved the fortified wines we get from your region, Sir. I have never tasted anything so exquisite in my life. Do you like to pair your wine with any particular foods?"

Thank god, that diverted him for a bit. He was more than happy to monologue about his fermented grape juice hobbies, and though I wasn't very interested in wine, I knew boredom was better than the indignance I felt as Oropher bagged out his grandson in a very public place.

Even better, after he had finally finished his half-hour winocentric soliloquy, Oropher excused himself to go and mingle with others. As he pushed his chair out, I caught sight of a depressed-looking Elf who had been obscured by Oropher this entire time. He had similar hair and eyes, but his angular face had a much less severe look than that of Oropher. I guessed that he was probably the grandson, as he was flanked by another Elf who was almost a replica of Oropher-likely the father.

I gave him a warm smile, a reciprocal smile starting to flicker across his features but then disappeared as the presumed father stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked sad again, and followed suit, both departing from the table together.

At last, I was free to turn my attention back to my friends, and gave them all what I call the "This bitch!" look. You know the one. You and your friends see someone behaving like an arsehole in public and you share the "this bitch!" look because you know damned well you'll be discussing it in private later. That was the look I shot them, and it was the one they- albeit very subtly- returned.

We didn't get up straight away, though, instead opting to sit awhile longer and chat awhile longer.

"One more question," I bid them. They all smiled and listened.  
"Who is in the portrait hanging up there? I feel like I've seen a couple of portraits around the place with those two." I pointed at a huge oil painting that hung up on one side of the hall. The depicted were a regal-looking pair, sharing the same serious, powerful, and beautiful countenance.

"You undoubtedly have," Bregedúr answered. "That is Thingol, the King of Doriath, and his wife, Queen Melian the Maia."

"What does a Maia do?"

Bregedúr frowned. "... Do? Well, a Maia is not a title or a profession. It is the name of a race."

"Oh, I see," I said, the penny dropping at last. "Are they any relation to the Elves? I would never have known she wasn't an Elf by looking at her."

"They are not," Elrond said, shaking his head. "The Maiar are spirits, assistants to the Valar- incorporeal, but can assume any form. Melian gave herself an Elven body when she came to Arda," Elrond explained.

"Oh right! So she's a shapeshifter like me?"

There was a pause as my friends looked at each other, and then at me.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Glorfindel, cocking his head slightly. "Are you able to transform your body?"

"Sure," I said, tucking my hair behind my ears and turning my head to face the side a little. "Watch my ears."

I concentrated on Elven ears for a moment, and then heard a collective gasp from my companions. I touched the tips of my ears, and sure enough, they had the characteristic pointed tips.

"You're a Maia?" Glorfindel whispered in amazement at me.

"Are they the only ones who can change their form?"

"Aside from the Valar, and Beornings, yes," said Gil-Galad, his eyes still a little wide.

"I see," I mused. "Well, there we go. I'm a Maia. Is there anything I need to know about being one of those?"

The four of them looked at me like I'd just asked them to split an atom on the dining table. I sighed. When an open-ended request for information overwhelms someone, simplifying it by asking for, say, a couple of facts, will usually calm them down and you'll at least get something out of them.

"Tell me two things someone who has just become a Maia who knows nothing about them should know." I held up two fingers. Still, nobody spoke; they remained rather too flabbergasted to even process that.

I pointed at Glorfindel. "You first. One useful fact about the Maiar."

"Well, they're immortal," he offered. "You weren't immortal before, were you? That must be good to know."

"Im- what did you say?" I exclaimed.

"Oh, yes, certainly," said Elrond. "You can die of an accident or be slain, but you will be reborn in Valinor, much like the Elves."

"Motherfucker," I uttered in disbelief, too shocked to feel even a hint of remorse for using foul language on an occasion where we were eating with the good china.

"Fact two," Bregedúr continued, having pulled it together enough to speak again, "the Maiar can do magic; they were sent to help the Valar build the world, but it seems you have come a little late for that, so I am not sure what you can do."

"Oh, eternal life and what I can do now will more than suffice," I croaked weakly.

Now I was the one who could scarcely assemble a thought. I felt like I had just been declared an alien. It was one thing to be a human around Elves, but quite another, it seemed, to be what I actually was. Would they see me differently now? Was this new status going to change life as I knew it now? The thought of unpacking and processing all of this information was so daunting that I worried I might be the first Maia to die of shock.

I was jerked out of this swampy disbelief by a coo of excitement. I looked up.  
"How wonderful!" enthused Glorfindel, his face glowing with excitement. "We will all be together forever!"

I perked up now. That was a very good point. Funnily enough, that comment was all it took to evaporate whatever worries were frantically ricocheting around in my brain. A wave of calm came over me, and I wondered what all the fuss had been about.

"Mmm," I replied happily, grinning contentedly at them. "I think forever with you bunch might almost be long enough."


	11. Following up

"God, how do you stand dealing with Oropher?" I asked Elrond, Bregedúr, Glorfindel and Gil-Galad over a small, private breakfast on Elrond's balcony the next morning. "What kind of person talks that way about their grandchild?"

"We wonder about that ourselves, from time to time," admitted Gil-Galad as he drizzled honey over a slice of bread. "Though, the trade deals are important for both realms, and I doubt many Mirkwood residents behave like their king, so refusing to continue deals would more likely hurt them than it would effect a change in Oropher's behaviour."

"Was that fellow sitting beside Oropher the grandson?"

"Yes," said Glorfindel with a nod. "He is Legolas, son of Thranduil, who was the Elf sitting on the other side of Legolas."

"Thranduil did nothing to defend his son, either," I added, failing to keep the indignation out of my voice.

"No, Thranduil, much like his father, has a very… distinct way of showing affection," said Elrond, shaking his head a little before popping a cherry tomato into his mouth.

"Legolas is rather pleasant, though," said Bregedur off-handedly. Her comment was met with unanimous agreement there.

My experience of Elven parents in Imladris had been wonderful; discipline here was gentle, constructive, and did not involve causing any physical or mental pain, and it was so effective that it was seldom called for at all. Children were empathetic, well-mannered, thoughtful, and communicated well from a very early age. It would have been a social worker's heaven.  
I had, it seemed, grown so used to such wholesome parenting that it was particularly jarring to encounter the dysfunction I had seen the night before, and it had made me surprisingly angry.

"Why are they like that?" I drummed my fingers on the table in an attempt to displace some of my growing displeasure.

A collective sigh came from my four companions, and they all made some variant of a shrug.

"Some have said it is the conditions in Mirkwood," said Elrond after a moment. "It is a dark sort of place, right in the heart of the forest. Little sunlight comes through, and all manner of aggressive creatures dwell among the trees in there."

"God, you're not going to tell me that sort of parenting practice is a common thing in Mirkwood, are you?" I blurted out in disbelief.

"Not from what I have seen, no," replied Elrond as he scratched his chin.

"They may also be hardened by loss," mused Gil-Galad. The others murmured in agreement, slowly nodding. "Thranduil married quite young, to the protégée of his mother, who herself was a skilled warrior. Shortly after Legolas' birth- Thranduil would have just reached his 50th year, if I recall correctly- Thranduil's wife and his mother were going alone through the forest and were killed in an ambush."

A collective silence fell over us as Gil-Galad's words hung in the chilly morning air. That sort of loss is unimaginably tragic, and I had helped many patients move past that sort of debilitating grief in my time. Extreme grief that requires professional intervention has usually reached a stage where the affected person acts out of character to a worrying degree, rarely in ways for the better.

However, an explanation for bad behaviour is not the same as an excuse, and no matter how badly Thranduil and Oropher had been affected by these horrific incidents, their grief did not entitle them to lapses of decency.

I chewed over all this information later on in my office, and noted everything on a scrap of paper that would later go into Legolas' file, if he chose to come to me.

As I wrote the last few words down, a knock came at my door. In the brief moment before I looked up from my work, I had presumed it was Legolas, and felt the same smug satisfaction that happens when one opens a particularly large book to exactly the page one was after. How perfectly things had tied in, I thought to myself, only to look up and see Glorfindel standing there. He smiled broadly and gave a little wave.

"Oh hey there!" I greeted my buddy with a grin. "What's happening?"

"I know you might be expecting Legolas today, but I just walked past the training yards and saw him practicing archery," Glorfindel jerked his thumb behind him, "so I had enough time to stop by and update you about my dreams; it has been a while since last we spoke of them."

"Oh, good, good!" I said happily, taking his file out from the drawer behind me. "Come on in and tell me all about it."

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and sat down as I poured him some water.

"How's your sleep been?"

"Mostly excellent," he replied. "Well, when raging warfare hasn't interrupted it," he added as an aside. "But I have not jerked awake in quite a number of months now."

"Jolly good," I enthused. "How about that dream, then? It's the first time I've heard you call it that, instead of a nightmare."

"Indeed," Glorfindel said with a smile. "The trampoline treatment seems to have worked very well. I visualised bouncing up and down as I fell asleep, and now… well, that is where it becomes interesting." He gave me a curious half-excited, half-nervous look.

"Oh?" I said, intrigued.

"Well, I no longer fall to my death in my dream. That is excellent. I bounce up, and it's a very happy ending indeed."

"Great!" I enthused. "Just what we were hoping for."

"Yes, but now it seems to have… spread," he said a little hesitantly.

"Spread? What, as in you're bouncing on trampolines in all your other dreams too, now?" I enquired.

"I could if I wanted to, but I meant that since I took control of that part of my dream, now I can control _everything_, in _all_ of my dreams. I realise I am in a dream almost straight away, and then I can make anything I want happen, and stop anything I tire of," he said a little hesitantly.

"Ah, so you've discovered lucid dreaming!" I said, giving Glorfindel a thumbs-up. "Fantastic!"

Glorfindel's shoulders immediately slouched, and his face slackened in relief. "Oh, thank goodness, it's normal?"

"Well, it's a good thing to have, but certainly isn't something that that many have. Think of it as a skill. Can't ever hurt to have power over your dreams, really."

"No," he mused, smiling into his hands. "Now I can dream about whatever I wish."

"Sure can! Now, how's your mood from day to day? And what about concentration?"

"Oh, it's fine," he said sunnily. "I have no need to mask anything any more. I am as happy and energetic as ever, and can collect my thoughts without trouble."

"Ah, now that's absolutely excellent to hear, Glorfindel," I beamed at him. "Now, going forward, I need you to keep something in mind."

Glorfindel nodded attentively.

"You may still experience nightmares, including the one with the Balrog, in the future- albeit much, much less often than you used to. But it is important not to be discouraged!" I stressed, holding up a finger emphatically.  
"The imagery rehearsal therapy that you have had is a tool, not a cure. A hammer will knock nails into wood, but it will not necessarily stop the nail from coming loose again in the future. However, it very effectively will hit the nail back into place. This is your hammer. Does that make sense?"

He nodded again happily. "Oh, yes," he said with a smile. "Perfect sense."

"Well, then, a toast!" I declared, filling our glasses again and lifting mine. "To good tools and great dreams."

Glorfindel grinned. We clinked our glasses and drained them.

"Well, I suppose I had better go for now," Glorfindel said after a moment. "I imagine I will see you at dinner."

"Hah, the only thing that could keep me from dinner is death," I said half to myself, half to him. He giggled and got up, making his way to the door.

"Oh, and Glorfindel?" I said just as he was about to reach for the door handle. He turned around.

"Mmm?"

"See if you can't dream up a way to make a mechanically viable trampoline, eh? I haven't had a bounce in years."

His eyes widened and a determined, keen smile crept over his face as he nodded, gave me a thumbs-up, and left the office.

I sighed contentedly. It is a very satisfying thing to see people flourish- not just because it makes oneself feel better, though it naturally does, but also because people deserve to flourish. They deserve the assistance needed to remove any roadblocks in their development. Humming to myself, I put Glorfindel's file away and made to take out my chicken comic, when I heard another knock.

I glanced up and this time, saw who I was expecting to see: Legolas. He was alone, his shoulders hunched enough to make him look like he was cowering a little. His deep blue eyes were shining like alarm beacons, and one glance at his face told me he would have liked nothing better than to turn invisible right now.

"Hello," I said warmly. "Won't you come in and have something to drink?"

Legolas nodded, and almost crept into my office, like he was afraid anyone would catch him here. He stood very still by my desk, his quiver and bow hanging off his shoulders, not game to do anything without my inviting him to do so first.

"If you like, you can set your things just over there," I pointed to a coat rack off to the side, "and you can sit down and take a load off your feet."

He nodded again quickly, and strode over to the coat rack where he hung his bow and quiver. His gait was powerful and full of purpose, but his palpable nervousness made his steps uneven, which I saw again as he came back over and sat down.

"That water is for you if you want it, by the way," I said, pointing at the glass closest to him. "Help yourself to more at any time."

Offering water has a number of benefits, aside from the obvious one of quenching thirst. It provides a distraction, so that when there is nothing left to say, one can make the silence appear intentional as they pick up the glass and take a sip. It is hospitality, which creates a positive first impression and makes one feel more welcome and relaxed, and so will open up more easily.

Perhaps the least obvious benefit, though, is that it can reveal otherwise very subtle physical symptoms. I noticed that Legolas was trembling ever so slightly. I'd never have picked it up when he was mid-movement, or standing at the doorway with his hands behind his back, but now that he was still (shaking aside, of course), the water jittered infinitesimally in the glass as he brought it to his lips.

He placed the glass down and looked up at me.  
"It's nice to see you again," I said with a smile. "My name is Rhodri. I'm the psychologist here in Imladris."

Legolas nodded. "I am Legolas," he answered softly. "You spoke with my grandfather last night."

"Ah, yes, I did indeed," I replied, nodding. "Tell me, what brings you here today, Legolas?"

He looked surprised. The confusion evident in his tone, he started to say, "Well, my grandfather last night- he mentioned-"

I gently held up a hand to stop him there. "Yes, I remember what your grandfather said, but what I want to know is why _you _are here. Let me explain a little about how I keep things private, and what you can expect from talking with me, and then we'll start talking, yes?"

Legolas nodded, blissfully unaware of what a boring five minutes he was in for, and the session began.

**Psych Notes**

**Lucid dreaming**  
A phenomenon (not a psychiatric disorder) that has been observed and studies across cultures since ancient times, in which a sleeping person becomes aware that they are dreaming, and is able gain varying degrees of control over what happens in the dream.  
Voss et al. (2009) proposed three main criteria for a lucid dreaming state: control (being able to exercise control over what's going on in the dream), dissociation (not experiencing the dream from your own perspective- instead, for example, on a screen as in a film (derealisation), or maybe looking down on yourself from above (depersonalisation)), and insight (the most important criterion: being aware that you are dreaming).

Voss, U., Holzmann, R., Tuin, I., and Hobson, J. A. (2009). Lucid dreaming: a state of consciousness with features of both waking and non-lucid dreaming. _Sleep_ 32, 1191–1200. doi: 10.1093/sleep/32.9.1191


	12. Eight-legged fears

"So, tell me a bit about why you are here today, Legolas," I requested.

"Well, truthfully," Legolas began, looking at his hands, "I suppose the main reason is because my grandfather had arranged for this already, and no doubt would have cajoled me into this office to get fixed if I refused. I would rather come on my own terms."

"Mmm," I said, nodding my head. "Well, Legolas, I would suggest that if you decide to proceed with this, that you be sure you are doing it because you want to. I have treated fear of spiders many times with great success, but therapy is almost guaranteed to be ineffective if you do not genuinely wish to make the change and put in the effort for it. Do you really want to be less afraid of spiders? Or do you just want to get your grandfather off your back?"

I looked at him squarely and he looked right back at me.

He sat there for a moment, saying nothing.

Finally, he let out a puff of air and said, "Well, yes, I would like to be less afraid of spiders."

This was a good start. There was at least some interest there in doing something about it. Of course, actions speak louder than words, and the true extent of Legolas' motivation to address his fear of spiders would only become apparent with time.

"In which case, let's get into it," I suggested. "First, I'd like to build up a bit of an understanding with what's going on. Would you tell me exactly what it is you're afraid of?"

"Spiders," he replied. "Big ones, small ones, underground, in a web-- all of them. I can't stand them." He grimaced as he spoke, practically having to force the words out.

"Indeed," I said as I noted this. "Are you afraid of other insects and bugs? Flies, bees, ants, that sort of thing?"

"No, no," he shook his head. "Just spiders."

"Just spiders, okay. How bad would you say the fear is? Let's say on a scale of 1-10, 1 being neutral and 10 being the most frightening thing you have ever experienced, where would you place interacting with spiders?"

"Oh, a 10, easily," Legolas said quickly. "I have not felt fear for anything else like I do for spiders."

"So very, very intense, I see. You've been looking rather distressed when we were talking, so would it be fair to say that you feel upset even at the mention of spiders?"

Legolas gave an abashed nod. "I don't want to think of them, hear about them, look at them-- even the mere picture of a spider is enough to make my heart leap out of my chest."

"Tell me about what happens when you encounter a spider."

A blush left his face positively aglow as he answered, barely above a whisper, "I run away immediately if I can. If I am forced to stay where I am, I…" Legolas took a deep breath and let it out again. "I scream and cry."

I saw his glass was empty, so I topped it up with water. "Would I be right in saying that your fear of spiders has a fairly big impact on your life?"

Legolas nodded as he reached for his cup. "Yes, as the second-in-line for the throne, I am meant to be a fearless warrior who can command the Elven forces of Mirkwood."

He drummed his fingers against the glass irritably. "But spiders surround the forest in Mirkwood, so how am I to command an army when I am too afraid to leave my own home?"

He took a sip of water, looking wretchedly unhappy now. "And my father and grandfather are so ashamed of me. You heard what my grandfather said last night. They think I am a disgrace." He shook his head dejectedly.

"It sounds like your fear of spiders makes life extremely hard for you, Legolas. And I do not imagine that comments like those from your father or grandfather make it any easier."

"They do not," he agreed.

"How long have you been afraid of spiders like this?"

Legolas tapped his lip with his finger as he considered my question, and then slowly said, "I believe it started when I was about five or six years of age. My father had explained to me around then that my mother and grandmother had been fighting spiders in the forest when they were ambushed from behind, which was how they died. Not long after that, my father was taking me for a walk in the forest and two large spiders appeared. I remembered my father's words that those spiders kept my mother and grandmother from being able to defend themselves, and I was terrified that they would waylay us in much the same manner. I never wanted to leave the borders of safety again after that, and I was afraid of anything to do with spiders from that point on."

Just about everybody is afraid of something. It is normal to feel some fear, especially about the unknown, or things that are known to be dangerous. The purpose of fear is to motivate us to stay away from something that was evolutionarily harmful to us.

When we experience fear that is out of proportion to the thing or situation, though, it crosses the line into specific phobia territory. Phobias can be incredibly disrupting to our lives, especially if the cause is quite common. People with phobias might go to incredible lengths—quitting their job, moving house, perhaps not leaving the house at all—to avoid the object of their anxiety, even if there is only a very small chance it would be encountered in that situation. It seemed pretty clear-cut that Legolas had arachnophobia- a fear of spiders—but he had also mentioned not wanting to leave the house, too. Was there something else at play here?

"How did you cope travelling all this way to Imladris, Legolas?" I asked him. "You said you didn't wish to exit the boundaries of safety at home. Are you afraid to go anywhere outside of your home?"

He shook his head. "No, in fact, I am relieved to be away from the Mirkwood spiders. The problem is that we are surrounded on all sides by the spiders, as we are in the heart of the forest, so leaving invariably means passing through spider territory. I would love to travel more."

I put a small cross beside the word 'agoraphobia.' He certainly didn't sound afraid of being away from home—quite the contrary, in fact: it seemed he was being kept locked in by these fiendish arthropods.

I had treated arachnophobia quite a number of times in my career, but it pays to keep in mind that the largest spiders in Great Britain reached a size of about 14 centimetres, and it even then, it would have been fair to scream and depart the room via the nearest exit if one were to show up. Spiders the size of a car were the stuff of horror films, and hostile spiders even more so. And it was precisely these spiders that were implicated in the deaths of Legolas' mother and grandmother! Personally, I would never have moved to Mirkwood had I known what was dwelling there. Not in a million years.

My de-railed train of thought was forced back onto the tracks as I heard myself automatically start to speak.

"And, ah, so, what are you doing to cope with this at the moment?"

Legolas frowned. "To be honest with you, I do everything I can to avoid spiders, but my grandfather is quite forceful in trying to use his own methods of 'fixing me.'"

I raised an eyebrow (it was all I could do to stop myself from giving myself the physique of a professional wrestler, finding Oropher, and clotheslining him). "I see. What do those methods entail?"

"Nothing too out of character for him. He assigned me a troop very early on and made mandatory practice in spider territory, and he would drag me out there sometimes and bait the spiders so that I would be forced to fight them."

My other eyebrow shot up. This was straight-out abuse.

"It has not helped, though," he continued, looking plaintive. "I am as frightened as ever. He pushes me a little less now, but instead tries to shame me into going out and facing the spiders. Much like what you saw last night, though he had toned it down somewhat then."

I took my non-dominant hand off the desk so that Legolas wouldn't see me clenching it under the table, and in a forced calm voice, asked, "What does your father do about this?"

"He is a little more sympathetic, but not much. He mostly sides with my grandfather." Legolas sighed heavily. "I understand their reasoning, that the spiders are a part of life in Mirkwood, and that it is not really feasible to be this afraid of them, but I do wish they would be a little more compassionate in trying to address the issue."

"Mmm," I murmured. I straightened up in my chair, counting to three as I did so, and by then I was relaxed enough to continue without lambasting Legolas' relatives.

"Well, Legolas, I think I can help you to make your fear—or a phobia, as people in my profession call it—much more manageable. I can understand feeling fear when you encounter big spiders like the ones that hang around in the forest. That is very reasonable. But let's try reigning it in so that you don't feel so overwhelmed when you think or speak of them, or see smaller, more benign ones in real life. As for the big spiders, we'll try and make it so that you feel about them the same way you would any anything else of that size and hostility, all right? How does that sound to you?"

Legolas watched me for a moment. "Do you think you can do that?" he asked quietly.

"Well, like I said earlier, I have done it before quite a few times with other people with great effect," I said with a smile. "You have as good of a chance of getting past this as any of the others I've helped. Are you ready to give it a go?"

He picked up his glass for a moment, tapping the rim with his index finger, and then set it back down on the table.

"Yes, all right. I'll give it a try." He gave me a nervous smile.

I beamed back. "Excellent! Well, let's have a talk about the programme I have in mind. It's called 'exposure therapy.' What happens in exposure therapy is that we tackle the fear in small, manageable steps so that you build up a sort of 'immunity.' So, for example, we might talk about spiders until you feel quite comfortable doing that, and then we might look at pictures of spiders. Once you're confident, we'll look at small, real-life spiders, and eventually work our way up to the big ones in Mirkwood. The process usually takes a few months, but it might be more or less depending on how long it takes to work through each step. There's no hurry, we go through this at your pace. You'll be uncomfortable, but if it ever gets too much, all you need to do is tell me and we'll stop and talk about how to proceed. How does that sound to you, Legolas?"

He chewed on my words, and eventually nodded. "Very good. I will do my best."

I smiled gently. "I know you will. Well, I tell you what, let's call it a day for now; we've been talking about spiders for—" I checked my watch. "Oh! It's been a whole hour, now! Goodness. Yes, what say you come back in three days' time, and we'll start with phase one, eh?"

Legolas took a deep breath and then agreed. He eased himself out of his chair and made for the door, slinging his bow and arrows over his shoulder.

"Rhodri?" he said softly before he opened the door.

"Yes, Legolas?"

"Thank you for not laughing at me."

"I will never laugh at something that causes you this kind of distress, Legolas," I said in almost authoritative seriousness.

His mouth curved up in a small, tired smile, and he left without another word.

Alone in the office now, I took a piece of scrap paper and wrote every obscene insult I could about Oropher and Thranduil. I got up, walking over to the fireplace, and then threw it into the fire, watching the flames lick the paper down to a fragile sheet of ash.

"Bastards," I said with disgust, and exited the office, slamming the door behind me.

**Psych Notes**

**Specific phobia**

\- Being afraid of a particular thing or situation, which almost without fail causes fear straight away

\- The person tries to avoid the thing or situation, or they endure it and feel intense anxiety

\- The anxiety is disproportionate to the actual threat of the thing or situation, and is culturally unusual

\- The person has been anxious about this object or situation for at least 6 months

\- The anxiety impacts the person's job, social life, or personal life

\- The anxiety isn't the result of another mental disorder (e.g. post-traumatic stress disorder)


	13. We've gotta get out of this place!

**Author's note:** Hello hello! Just letting you know that this chapter talks about spiders in some detail. Also, you'll find that some of the information in the chapter is incomplete, so I've appropriated the **Psych Notes** section, which has temporarily become **Spider Notes,** as I thought the fact was too interesting not to share. Hope you're all doing well! Oh, and big thanks to earthdragon for pointing out the mistake I made about where Elrond started out. Much appreciated! I'll fix that up soon!

"Rhodri, _there_ you are!" came a gently admonishing voice from behind me. It gave me such a start that I reflexively flailed my limbs, sending the book I had been holding into the air. It was snapped up by a very dextrous hand that seemed to have shot out of nowhere.

"Bregedúr! Great catch!" I squeaked as I clutched my chest.

Bregedúr raised an eyebrow at me, picked up the pile of books on the couch beside me, and plonked herself down in their place.

"So these are the reasons you skipped breakfast… and lunch…" she murmured as she examined each book's cover.

"Goodness, you're right!" I gasped, looking out the window and seeing a distinctly afternoonish sky. "I must've gotten really absorbed in my research. Who knew spiders were so interesting?"

"Wait until you see the Mirkwood giants," Bregedúr replied. "They're interesting, to be sure, but it's probably the last descriptor that comes to mind when they are actively trying to decapitate you."

I had nothing to say to that. What could I say? I hadn't ever been there. She was probably right.

I wasn't left with enough time to even try to make a witty remark, as Bregedúr gently placed the books on the coffee table in front of us. She stood up, then turned around and hauled me onto my feet.

"Wh-" I began as I found myself suddenly upright.

"You need fresh air," Bregedúr said firmly. "I'm certain I saw a layer of dust fly off you when you got startled."

She took my notebook and pen out of my hands and placed it on top of the pile of books. "Don't worry, your books will still be here when you get back; everyone knows they're yours. We all recognise your handwriting because nobody else's is that hard to decipher." She shot me a cheeky grin, evidently thrilled with her clever banter.

Before I invited her to go bite her arse, Bregedúr frog-marched me out of the library and into the crisp midday air.

"Bregedúr, where are we going?" I spluttered. "I have to get to the office shortly!"

She stopped. "How soon?" she asked, looking at me beadily.

I checked my watch and gasped. "Gawd! In about ten minutes!"

My friend rolled her eyes theatrically and said, "Ah, go on then. But Glorfindel and I want to talk to you- we have been looking everywhere for you today!"

"Dinner," I said quickly. "How about then?"

"Fine, but don't be late!" she said, hands on her hips.

"'Course not!" I said with a wink, turning to run back to the library to get my things. I quickly stopped and looked at Bregedúr. "Oh, and, uh, thanks for the alarm call." I smiled at her. "Where would I be without you, hmm?"

With that, I was off like a shot, and heard Bregedúr call after me, "You'd still be in the library, caked in dust, you fool!"

Bregedúr seemed to be in an especially good mood today. Either that or she was excited. Though good-natured ribbing was a cornerstone of our friendship, she only trotted out her best raillery in such rapid fire on special occasions.

I pondered this as I skittered through the halls and into the office, feeling just a little pleased that nobody had seen me burst through the door and land in my chair like a missile. I felt that patients had more confidence in a psychologist who seemed organised, and even if it was a total and utter farce, if I could keep up appearances, why on earth not? They benefited from it because treatments were likely to be more effective if they had greater confidence in me. Fake it 'til you make it, right?

I had been eagerly anticipating this first session with Legolas. An important first step in tackling a phobia is knowing thy enemy. A better understanding of the object of one's anxiety helps to dispel any misconceptions about them and allows for more objective thinking and perhaps even to foster an appreciation of them.

Spiders, as terrifying as they might be, are fascinating creatures, and I had had a whale of a time reading up on them. Some interesting facts might just be the way to start things off.

I was whistling cheerfully to myself and organising my notes for the day when the knock came that would start proceedings. Looking up, I saw Legolas standing at the door, looking amused. I smiled and invited him in.

"What is that song you were whistling?" he asked as he came in and sat down.

"Ah, a song about a fictional hero in my home, who had magical powers given to him by a spider," I said, passing him a glass of water. "I'll tell you more about him later. Are you ready to get started with phase one?"

Legolas raised the glass to his lips, and I noticed the water visibly rippling as he drank deeply.

"As ready as one can be, I suppose," he eventually said as he replaced the glass.

"I'll just explain what I'd like to cover today first," I began. "We're going to get you into the habit of feeling comfortable while talking about spiders. We'll get to the heart of the bothersome parts of spiders and do something called 'intellectualisation,' whereby I teach you some things about spiders to replace fear with understanding. Now remember, if it gets too much, all you need to do is say so, and we will take a break- no judgement, no criticism. You set the pace. How's that?"

He nodded slowly.

"Excellent. Now tell me, Legolas, what is it about spiders that you find particularly unappealing?"

Legolas squirmed in his seat as he considered my question. "All the eyes. The way they move. The way they lift up their legs when they are about to attack…" he shuddered audibly and shook his head quickly.

"That's fair," I answered. "That's what most people hate about them. And yet, they're some of the most interesting things about spiders. How much do you know about spiders, incidentally?"

"Very little," he admitted.

"In which case, let's have a look at some of the things that make spiders unique. We'll start with an exercise."

I opened the drawer to my desk and took out a rubber ball that had been sitting in my backpack. I held it up for Legolas to see, and then gently threw it to him. He caught the ball and looked at me quizzically.

"How did you know that ball was coming?" I asked.

Legolas frowned. "Well, I saw it flying toward my face," he said, throwing the ball back to me.

"What if the ball were coming to you," I said, hopping out of my chair and walking over to the right of Legolas, "but from the side? What would you do then?"

He chuckled weakly. "I imagine I would not be able to do much, and the ball would likely hit me in the head."

"Correct," I said as I nudged him in the side of the head with the ball. "Fortunately, we are not often in situations where we need to anticipate attacks from the side. We have two eyes on the front of our face because we were built to travel long distances, and we need to see how far away things are so we can prepare better to catch food and spot enemies. That arrangement works best for us."

He nodded. I continued, as I made my way back to my chair.

"Now, think about the life an average spider leads. You live in a web or on the ground, trying to catch some food for yourself, but you have a lot of things that like to eat you as well. And not just that, but what you try to catch will often attempt to fight you. Really, you're in for a rough ride as a spider. Just about everything wants you dead. You stand a very good chance of losing a few legs and eyes through your lifetime, and on top of that, imagine that these two eyes," I pointed at mine, "can't move. They stay looking straight ahead. Having some eyes on the side would be pretty handy, wouldn't they? Something that could move around to see all the things after you."

Legolas looked uncomfortable, but he seemed to concede with another nod. "It's still not pleasant, though," he murmured.

"No, not really, but there are a lot of animals with more than two eyes," I replied. "Jellyfish have 24 eyes, for example. Bodies adapt to their environment. Tell me how you feel about spiders' eyes now that you know that fact."

He sat quietly for a moment as he deliberated over my question. His lips were pursed for some time before he finally said, "Well, it was very interesting, and I suppose now that I know a little more about why there are so many, I feel like I can dislike them, but in a different way."

"How can you dislike them differently now?"

"Well, I suppose before, it was a general dislike that was not based on any specific reason except my fear, and there was no room for me to feel anything else about them. But now that I know more, I feel like I can still dislike them, but also feel that it makes sense for spiders to have so many." He sat there cogitating over his own answer for a few minutes, and then looked up at me, still disturbed but showing a hint of satisfaction.

"You're doing fantastically well, Legolas," I said with a smile, refilling his water glass. "It can be hard to put yourself through learning about something that's so distressing, but you're powering on through it. You should be proud of yourself."

Legolas smiled weakly.

I checked my watch. It had been half an hour.

"We have enough time for another exercise, if you're interested," I offered.

That was met with a small nod. I left my seat again, and went over to Legolas. He was sitting straight in his chair, with both feet on the floor, watching me curiously.

"Would you mind straightening your right leg for a moment?" I asked, pointing at said limb.

Legolas' face suggested that this was one of the stranger requests he had had, but humoured me anyway, sticking his leg out straight ahead.

"Right," I said after a moment, "now, if I may, I would like to push down on your foot with my hand, and I would like you to try to keep your leg straight. Is that all right?"

He nodded and made a gesture inviting me to proceed. I put my hand out flat on the bridge of his foot and gently pressed down. I felt Legolas' leg go rigid under me as his muscles started straining a little harder to maintain the desired position, and after a few seconds, I let go.

"Jolly good. You can lower your foot now," I said, sitting back down.

"Now, tell me about how you straightened your leg," I requested.

"Well, ah, my muscles did it, really," he said. "They tightened, and that pulled my foot up."

"Precisely," I agreed. "And then what happened when I pushed down on the top of your foot? How did your leg stay straight then?"

"I… think I tensed my muscles there, too," he murmured uncertainly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"You did indeed," I confirmed with a nod. "Many muscles can be divided into two broad groups: flexors and extensors." I lifted one arm like I was about to show off my nonexistent guns.

"When flexor muscles tense, it bends the joint." I pointed at my bicep as I flexed my arm, "and then when extensor muscles tense, it straightens the joint," I indicated my tricep as my arm sprawled out. "That make sense so far?"

Legolas nodded.

"Now, spiders' legs don't have extensor muscles, only flexors, which means they don't have any muscles to stretch their legs out." I held my hand palm-up and slowly curled my fingers into a ball.

Legolas' eyes widened as he watched my fingers, and to my surprise, he suddenly stammered out, "Rhodri, c-can we stop, please?" His face had gone ghostly pale, and he looked like he was moments away from overturning the chair and scarpering from the office.

I quickly put my hands down. "Of course we can," I said with a reassuring smile. "We absolutely can. Would you like a short break, or would you prefer to continue this in the next session?"

In those short few moments, he had started to sweat, and I could see beads forming on his forehead. "Next session, if you don't mind."

"You set the pace, Legolas," I reminded him. "Take your time and relax this afternoon doing something you like. You have done an absolutely exceptional job. Well done on listening to yourself and setting boundaries. That can also also very difficult, but you're going wonderfully there, too."

Legolas sat in the chair for a little while, wringing his hands.

"Where do you like to go to de-stress when you're at home?" I asked gently.

"I enjoy sitting with my horse," he mumbled, not looking up at me.

"Come," I said, standing up. "I'll show you the way to the stables from here, yes?"

He slowly eased himself out of the seat, and allowed himself to be walked out of the office and down to where the horses were kept. Night was falling, the biting chill drowning out the nominal warmth the sunshine had offered.

We reached the stables and stopped at a stall belonging to a very handsome dapple-grey horse, who nickered happily upon seeing who had come to visit.

"Hello, Anglos," Legolas said, a true smile revitalising his exhausted face as he lovingly pat the horse's face.

"I'll leave you to it," I said with a nod. "From here, the dining hall is just up the hill." I pointed to an uphill path some hundred metres away.

Legolas nodded back. "Thank you, Rhodri. I will see you in three days, then?"

"You know it," I said with a grin, and with that, I made my way up to the dining hall to fulfill the other task for the day: find out what apparently urgent thing Bregedúr and Glorfindel had to speak to me about.

I strode into the hall and saw the two of them sitting with Elrond and Gil-Galad already. They caught sight of me and Bregedúr waved me over in an attempt to hurry me up. I picked up my pace and beetled over to them.

"Goodness, what on earth is the urgency, you two? You'd think the world was about to end or something."

"And well it might if we can't get this sorted once and for all," said Glorfindel, trumpeting melodrama with every syllable.

I arched an eyebrow and sat down with them, loading my plate with food as I did so.

"What's all this about?"

"Well, you see-" began Bregedúr, who was cut off by Glorfindel.

"You promised we were going to go camping," he said, giving me a thoroughly reproachful look.

My potato fell off my fork as I stared at him in disbelief. "Is this what's going to cause the end of the world? If we can't organise dates for a camping trip?"

Elrond glanced at Glorfindel, then shrugged. "It would seem so," he affirmed.

"Lord have mercy on me," I murmured under my breath. "Well, all right, I tell you what. I have to go to Mirkwood in the coming few months. Tentatively, it should be in about three months, but that might change. My business there should only last a week or two. How about you four set out a little after I do, meet me in Mirkwood, and we'll make a camping trip of it on the way back. Is that fair?"

This was met with unanimous approval from Bregedúr, Glorfindel, Elrond, and Gil-Galad. Glorfindel and Bregedúr were particularly vocal about it, but even Elrond and Gil-Galad murmured their approval through statements like, "Yes, indeed, it has been some time since we took leave last-"

"And it is for our own wellbeing, of course, not leisure-"

"Oh, no question, no question."

I took a moment to observe them all happily chattering and felt a warmth spread all through my body right to the tips of my fingers. Life was mighty fine.

"Rhodri, stop staring at us so sentimentally and join the conversation!" chided Bregedúr with a laugh as she gently prodded me in the arm with her fork.

"Who wants to hear facts about spiders?" I asked with a grin.

Elrond and Glorfindel looked keen, as a matter of fact, but Bregedúr rolled her eyes, and Gil-Galad said "Perhaps you should return to your sentimental reverie awhile longer," failing to suppress a giggle.

They were an all right bunch, really.

_Anglos _(Sind.): "Iron-snow"

**Spider Notes: **All right, so you lovely bunch, this is pretty rad. As you read above, spiders don't have extensor muscles, only flexors, mostly because there isn't room in their body for both kinds of muscles, and it would make them too heavy to move around. They are able straighten their legs thanks to a special hydraulic system found in their abdomen (known as the cephalothorax), which is where all their legs attach to the body. This system has 'pipes' that pump the spider equivalent of blood (known as haemolymph) right out to the end of the leg. If you can imagine those party tooters, where you blow and it unfurls the paper into a long tube, that's pretty much the same thing going on, except it uses haemolymph, and the spider doesn't make a tooting sound every time it takes a step.

This means that if a spider takes a hit to the cephalothorax that causes a puncture, it's in big trouble, because the pressure drops dramatically as a result. This is also why when spiders die, their legs curl up: there is no longer any hydraulic pressure going out through the legs as the cephalothorax is no longer pumping, and also because the flexor muscles tighten from rigor mortis.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk on why spiders look ridiculous- and kind of unnerving- when they run. Now you know.


	14. The final boss

My projection that Legolas' exposure therapy would last about three months was pretty much on the money. He had progressed quite smoothly through talking about spiders after that initial hitch, and did even better when we moved on to dealing with pictures of our many-eyed friends. I set up a painting class at the end to celebrate, where we had to depict ourselves riding giant spiders like mythical outlaws.

Some more weeks passed after which saw us going on nature walks around Imladris to observe spiders in the wild, and even handle them if they weren't too big or aggressive. The same spiders little Turil had kept in her room ended up being the first ones Legolas handled. I couldn't help but smile as I saw Legolas, trembling but persevering as one crawled around on the palm of his hand, and considered how things had come full circle- converting another person into being a friend of the spiders.

Now it had come to the time for Legolas to complete the last phase of the therapy: exposure to the huge spiders in Mirkwood. I was to accompany him to Mirkwood, where we would gradually get closer and closer to the spiders until he felt confident enough to enter combat with one (with plenty of armed support, of course).

We had been riding for just over three weeks when I first saw it: a huge sea of trees, many of which had branches stripped bare by the winter, that stretched from left to right as far as the eye could see. It looked like incredibly tall, spindly skeletons were hiding among bushes.

At first blush, I didn't really like the look of the place, and found myself wishing we were high-tailing it back to Rivendell's utopian, well-lit atmosphere.

To be honest, I wasn't keen on the place at the second or third blush either, but when we got into the middle of the forest to the actual kingdom of Mirkwood, I was greeted with a sight that left me absolutely gobsmacked.

We had entered a place that would have featured on the front cover of The Woodworker every month if someone had ever caught wind of it. The biggest trees I have ever seen, with trunks sometimes wider than a small house, had been carefully trained, hollowed out, and pruned to create a dense network of paths, dwellings, platforms-- these people wanted for absolutely nothing. The wood in the trees was a gentle ochre colour, making everything easy on the eye, and smaller branches had been trained to make intricate knots and patterns, like living, growing carvings. I was amazed how immediately comfortable and at home I felt there-- especially despite the misgivings I had allowed myself to build up over the 6 hours it had taken for us to reach the interior.

"Welcome to Mirkwood," Legolas said to me with a smile as his eyes softly flicked around his familiar place.

"Thank you very much," I said, a little unclearly as my jaw had been dropped from the view and I still hadn't been able to replace it entirely.

"Ah, now I should warn you," said Legolas as we dismounted our horses, "my people are rather more distrustful of outsiders than what you might be used to—especially toward non-Elves."

"Oh, not to worry," I said lightly, bending down as though I were fishing something out of my backpack. I let my hair fall forward to shroud my face and hands. "I came prepared for that, you see. I have some fake ears that I will put on now, and I'll blend right in."

Naturally, this was a lie. I had brought no props of the sort. I heard Legolas make a doubting sound as I made a big show of pretending to affix these imaginary prosthetics while I willed myself to change ear shape.

I stood up, flicked my hair back, and turned around to face Legolas.

"There," I said. "Do I look convincing?"

Legolas looked at me as though I had just transformed into a crab in front of him.

"Incredibly so," he replied, not taking his eyes off my ears. I took one ear in my fingers and bent it for extra effect, thinking to myself that morphing would have to become my party trick.

He wasn't kidding, though. You may recall that I had mentioned the arresting shades of blue, red, green, and other brighter, more cheerful tones the Elves of Imladris were known to wear. The ones that starkly contrasted with Mirkwood's earthen hues. The ones that once again, made me stand out like a nun at a Guns N Roses concert. No other remarks are needed at this point to describe how well I was initially received.

Thankfully, Legolas was perfectly happy for me to stick with him much of the time as we engaged in intense therapy daily to prepare him for his close encounter of the eight-legged kind.

We spent the first few days in Mirkwood going over at length all the other steps we had covered thus far. So far, so good. After that, I began to accompany him on patrols around the forest borders. I had been introduced to his patrol group as a visiting naturalist who wished to learn more about the ecosystem in Mirkwood. Seemed plausible.

I made an effort to take as many notes as I could to look the part while simultaneously keeping an eye on Legolas. He was on edge most of the time but was still able to describe the surroundings to me in a relatively calm voice.

We had seen one or two spiders in passing, but they had not caught sight of us because we had hidden ourselves, at Legolas' order. I watched him sweat as we stood behind a huge tree, watching them proceed with their unknown business from a handful of metres away.

"You have done exceptionally well," I said to Legolas one evening toward the end of my second week. "Now it's time for us cover spider behaviour. They are usually not very aggressive, and if they do decide to attack, it's usually for protection of themselves, their nest, or because they're territorial. Essentially, for the same reasons that you attack them, yes?"

Legolas nodded as he sipped on wine. "I suppose this is another part of the intellectualisation you mentioned before? Keep their motives in mind as I attempt to slaughter them?"

"Goodness, you catch on quickly," I said with a smile. "Yes, in a manner of speaking, I want you to continue practicing making room in your head for facts and plans of action while you feel fear. Fact: this spider is coming toward me. I feel fear. I will take action by slicing its head off. That sort of thing, but make it happen fast. You can already do it with all your other foes, so this shouldn't take long."

And it didn't, either. Around the end of the second week, during one of the daily patrols, there was a very noisy crashing sound coming from a short way ahead of us.

"Spiders!" said one of the patrollers. "We will clear the path." Without another word, most of the company shot off into the distance, weapons drawn.

Legolas blanched and winced as we slowly rode on.

"This is an excellent opportunity to perhaps engage with the spiders," I said to Legolas. "Do you think you're ready to try?"

He whimpered quietly, but nodded, and we picked up the pace a little as we followed after the patrollers.

The ambient forest sounds of rustling leaves and singing birds were punctuated by Elven shouts and something else that made my stomach drop. I wasn't sure what it was, I just knew it was horrible and belonged to something that was undoubtedly not a pleasant character. Its screeches and roars were bloodcurdling, and I could hear words- ugly words, from an ugly language. I was half tempted to turn tail and force Legolas to emigrate with me back to Rivendell and leave this horrible place behind.

I shook my head to try and send my unhelpful train of thought off its tracks, and we hurried on until we were in eyeshot of the patrollers. Legolas' breathing became audible as we hid behind a tree and watched the others fighting against an enormous, enraged spider.

"You're doing well," I reassured him in a whisper. "This is the end goal, and you've already nearly reached it!"

Legolas turned to look at me, and started to say, "Do you really think so, Rho—" when there came another deafening screech and sentence after sentence of that awful language again. I looked up to see where the source was, and—

"My god, that spider is talking in the Mordor language," I gasped under my breath.

Legolas looked at me in confusion and said, "Well yes, these are the children of Ungoliant."

"_Shelob_?" I asked in disbelief. Legolas nodded quickly.

"Legolas, these aren't spiders, then," I said to him. "These are demons endowed with a spider-like body."

This was met with silence on Legolas' part for a moment. "Are they not essentially one and the same?"

"Well, I very much doubt that if I were to paint myself dapple-grey and get down on all fours that you would mistake me for your horse and try to ride on my back," I retorted. "Look, Legolas," I continued quickly, "You have dealt with spiders aplenty now. You know how they look, feel, and function. Spider behaviour is different, though. Most spiders do not like to attack. They like to run away and hide."

I pointed at the squalling beast ahead of us. "You need to make a division between appearance and reality now, because this will not behave like a spider. This thing is an angry, malevolent demon that bears the guise of a spider. Now you need to treat it like a demon, but attack it like a spider. Do you understand me?"

"This is not a spider…" he murmured. He looked at me, eyes wide. "So I have already conquered my fear of spiders?"

"Depends. How do you feel about going up and fighting that thing now?"

"I think I'm ready," Legolas said, a determined look hardening his face.

Just as he said that, the spider/demon let out another shriek and threw one of its legs out, hitting three or four patrollers so hard that they flew against a tree trunk and sank to the ground, out cold.

"Well, there's never been a better time for you to give it a try," I said, patting him on the shoulder quickly. "When you're ready."

He didn't need to hear it twice. He dashed out from behind that tree like a goose was after him, and he was shooting two, three arrows at a time at this creature with a grace that I had not ever seen before. The spider roared in pain as these arrows flew neatly into its eyes and was distracted enough to not notice Legolas zoom behind it and between its legs until he was squarely beneath its undercarriage. Legolas drew his sword, and in one neat swipe had advanced the blade through the length of its cephalothorax as easily as if he were undoing a zipper. Fluid gushed out from the gaping wound, and that was it for the spider. Legolas barely made it out from under it before the creature's legs gave out and it sank to the ground, writhing miserably. In what must have been some kind of pity on Legolas' part, he administered one more stab between the eyes, and the arachnoid was dead.

The other patrollers were thunderstruck and stared at their prince in open shock. Legolas hardly knew what to do, himself, and simply stood there for a moment, catching his breath and wiping spider juices off his face.

"Your Majesty, that was outstanding—"

"It was dead in three moves—"

Legolas gently held up a hand to silence them and smiled. "Plenty of time for that later," he said. "We should get these three some medical attention first," he gestured at the three concussed Elves sitting at the base of the tree, gingerly rubbing their heads.

Dinner that night was an absolutely cracking celebration of the prowess of Prince Legolas. Music played until the small hours, much wine was drunk, dancing was done, and Legolas' father and grandfather seemed to have a complete change of heart about the bravery and overall worth of him.

Legolas insisted that I sit near him at the table ("you know, as our honoured visiting naturalist," he had said with a wink). Unfortunately, he was seated right near Oropher and Thranduil, and I was forced to observe their newfound kindness toward Legolas with a heavy dose of angry nausea. That they even saw fit to withhold it in the first place was appalling.

I was snapped out of my irritable mood with a gentle nudge.

"Rhodri, shall we dance?" asked a smiling Legolas, holding his hand out and nodded in the direction of the dance floor.

Relief! A chance to escape the close company of Oropher and Thranduil. I accepted with alacrity, and he led me out to the middle of the floor, where we eased into a relaxed waltz.

"I think it all ended quite well, really, don't you?" he said to me as he navigated us masterfully between the other dancing pairs.

I smiled and nodded in agreement. "Oh, yes. You were absolutely outstanding," I replied. "How are you doing in general?"

"Well, I think," he answered with a half-shrug. "Everybody seems quite pleased."

"And what about _you_, Legolas?"

"Oh, I am pleased, too. Though…"

"Mmm?"

"Can we step outside after this song?" he requested.

"Naturally," I said with a nod.

We left the ballroom shortly after. Legolas led me out and up a few flights of stairs to a small terrace that commanded an impressive view over the arboreal realm. We perched on a bench there and drank in the view for a moment before I said, "Tell me what's on your mind."

"Do you know, Rhodri," he began, "though I am happy that my father and grandfather are being kinder now, but at the same time, their being kind makes me feel anger as well."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I think I am upset because it came much too late," he mused. "It would have been far better had they been more compassionate early on. Perhaps it wouldn't have taken almost two yén to resolve."

Legolas leaned forward and rested his chin on one hand, disappointment etched into his face.

"Have they been like this with other things in your life, Legolas? Belittling you, trying to resolve the situation with no consideration of your wants and needs, that sort of thing?"

"Mmm," he affirmed with a small nod, "though to a lesser extent than the spider problem."

"Are you aware that that sort of behaviour is not considered a normal or healthy way to treat someone?"

Legolas slowly turned to look at me. "It's not?" His eyebrows raised a little.

I shook my head. "No, it is not. It's funny how many people are surprised to hear that kindness and empathy are not just rare treats to be enjoyed on special occasions. We enjoy them because they are good for us, good for our happiness and wellbeing, our minds, our bodies. The larger the dose, the better. You are worthy of and deserve as much love and acknowledgement now as when you were terrified of spiders four months ago."

Nothing more was said for a short while, because I wanted to let Legolas digest those words. He watched out over the view, and I couldn't help but notice tears sliding down his cheeks. My heart sank for him, as it always did with clients who had only learned well into adulthood that kindness and empathy were not luxury goods.

After some time had passed, I noticed the tears had dried up. Now came the hard part.

"You know, Legolas," I said, "You have achieved so much in your life, and after a very rough start, too. I don't know your father or grandfather very well, but perhaps they are not aware of how harmful their actions are. That's for you to decide, but if you believe that they truly are well-meaning and simply poor—_very poor_—" (I couldn't resist getting a dig in at them) "communicators, it might be well for you to take them aside and talk to them honestly about this."

"What would I tell them, though?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"Tell them what you said to me. Tell them it is time they learned to separate the individual from the behaviour and to take the trouble to empathise with you, and that you deserve to be treated with love and respect by your family simply because _you-are-Legolas_," I replied, gently sending my fist onto my knee for emphasis as the last three words came out.

"And you know," I continued, "whether they rise to the occasion or not is immaterial. Your value and worth as a person will not go up or down depending on their opinion of you. You should not have to tolerate being somewhere that you are not treated with the respect you deserve."

Legolas pursed his lips for a moment, then nodded. "Mmm. That is much to think about."

"Well, there's no rush. It's not as though you're going to die of old age any time soon," I quipped, trying to keep a deadpan expression as I did. That attempt fell through when Legolas snorted and a laugh or two escaped me in sympathy.

"Oh, Rhodri? One more question," Legolas bid me.

"Go for it," I invited.

"How did you get your ears to look so realistic?"

"That's a very good question. Let's go back and dance some more," I said, quickly getting to my feet and hauling Legolas back downstairs.

"Wh-what does that have to do with your ears?"

"Absolutely nothing."


	15. The best is yet to come

**Author's note**: I'm terribly sorry about the delay! I caught myself wondering if I could summarise each of the main characters' personalities with a song, and it ended up being something I pondered over for hours (#autismlife), hence no chapter yesterday. I dunno if describing someone with a song is something people actually do, but I thought I'd share it here anyway, with a couple of keywords with what made me think the songs were suitable. They're at the bottom of the story under **Music Notes**. Feel free to share your songs too if you do that kind of thing as well! About you, the characters, whatever takes your fancy :)

Also, thanks to all your comments, and to pineapple-pancake and earthdragon for the pointers. I mistakenly analogised spider cephalothoraxes as homologous to the abdomen, but the word I should have used is torso! I'll edit that when I get a moment. Also I messed up Thranduil's age. I'd seen when he was born, but my brain is like teflon with numbers, so the maths went right out the window. I'm happy enough to wear the Maths Dunce badge as a result. I'll see if I can fix it up, but apologies in advance as it will probably take a while.

As always, you're exceptional and can most definitely do the thing! Not once, but again and again. And even if you don't do the thing, I'm super proud of you!

I was almost sad to say toodle-pip to Mirkwood. I was thoroughly enamoured with the idea of spending my days climbing trees here like some sort of (relatively) hairless monkey. Any migration urges were quelled rather quickly, though, as I sat and drank tea on the balcony adjoining my room just after lunch some days later. I glanced over the balcony and got a huge thrill as I saw four familiar, colourfully-clad figures below being led into the main courtyard.

"OH! OH! YOU FOUR! UP HERE!" I shouted, flailing my arms like I was an octopus getting an electric shock. I abandoned my tea, bolted into my room before they could even find the source of the cacophony and sped out to meet them.

I was on the ground floor with my arms around them in moments, and when they were all sufficiently embarrassed by such an overt display of emotion, we all went in to see Oropher so that the newcomers could announce themselves. When we got there, he was sitting and chatting with Thranduil and Legolas.

"Ah, good day to you," greeted Oropher when he saw us, an uncharacteristically warm smile lighting up his features. I almost didn't recognise him when he didn't look like a beautiful villain. His face had always been so severe that I had been under the impression he simply had a profound case of resting bitch face. Now, though, he was coming across as approachable. Was he being genuinely friendly?

I was too distracted to find out. While Elrond was taking one for the team and exchanging niceties with Oropher, I made to sling an arm around Bregedúr affectionately, but stopped when I saw that her face had gone crimson.

For a moment, I thought she was unable to breathe and would soon pass out, but she wasn't clutching at her throat or announcing she was choking in any way. In fact, she was standing stock-still, her eyes locked on one thing. I looked to see where her gaze was and saw Legolas, who had been staring straight back at her in what must have been the most awkward eye-lock in recorded history. His face was similarly flushed. I turned back to look at Bregedúr once more and saw that now Gil-Galad had noticed, too, and was very subtly straining not to laugh.

Fortunately, I have plenty of practice in having to stop myself from laughing after the years I had put in at the family clinic (children have the most magnificent insults that clinicians are strictly forbidden from laughing at), but contagious laughter was another beast altogether. Mercifully, I was able, by the skin of my teeth, to hold a straight face while this all went on.

I think Elrond had only planned to stay long enough to swap some news and courtesies and then skidaddle, but Oropher wouldn't hear of it.

"Ah, but you must stay the night at least! You have come a very long way, and it will be dark before you leave the forest," he said, glancing quickly at Legolas, who looked at him and nodded fervently.

Before Elrond could say anything, Bregedúr quickly stepped in.

"That is most kind of you, Your Highness," she said quickly. "We accept your generous offer with thanks."

Elrond looked like Bregedúr had taken off her sock and slapped him with it. Luckily, none of the Mirkwood royals seemed to notice or care. A yes was a yes, and that suited them.

I got the impression Legolas had laid down the law with Oropher and Thranduil in such a successful manner that it may have constituted one of the most rapid behaviour changes I've seen. Oropher had looked to Legolas for approval of his statements, as though he needed feedback on being warm and friendly. Perhaps he had turned over a new leaf after all.

To everyone's shock except mine and Gil-Galad's, Legolas insisted (quite firmly, I might add) on being the one to show us to our rooms and give a quick tour around Mirkwood.

I had to make a concerted effort to restrict the number of knowing glances I indulged in with Gil-Galad while all this went on, because the Maiar do not get sick. This axiom meant I could no longer blame any outbursts of wheezing laughter on asthma and expect to be believed.

Nonetheless, we got through it eventually. To his credit, Legolas was a lovely host and gave a great tour, only a slender majority of his attention going to Bregedúr. Elven crushes were a curious thing to observe, a little bit like those optical illusions where one image was hidden in another one. Initially, all you can see is real, sporting niceness. Then, though, someone helpful like Elrond takes you aside and informs you that was actually courtship. You finally see the hidden image, and from then on, you can't un-see it. A smile that's a half-centimetre wider than average? Crush. Asking for more than one dance? Big crush. Sitting alone together and accidentally end up holding hands? Probably about to be engaged. Such were the peculiar ways of the Elves.

Naturally, being privy to what was going on with Bregedúr and Legolas meant that I had duties as a good mate to fulfill. At dinner that evening, I made sure Bregedúr sat beside Legolas, right at the end of the table. Not conducive to making eyes at each other, but makes the setting ripe for quiet conversation.

After dinner, they magically ended up beside each other again when we had adjourned to the music hall for the evening's entertainments. We were there until fairly late into the night, and by the time the singers had sufficiently sung and the players had played aplenty, the five of us stood in the corridor with Legolas, Thranduil, and Oropher, conversing yet more.

"Mmm, well, I suppose we should call it a night," I said, seizing on a short lull in the chatter. "Early start, you know?"

A sequence of nods followed, after which Elrond, Glorfindel, and Gil-Galad said their goodnights and strolled away to their rooms.

"Oh, Legolas, would you mind doing me a favour?" I bid him. Legolas looked up attentively.

"I was going to show Bregedúr the library here, but I find I'm very tired, myself. Do you think you could do it for me? Just a quick look, I don't want you to stay up all night, but it's really worth a look."

Legolas quickly looked at Bregedúr and nodded, politely offering his arm to her and taking her to the library (which, by the way, was about 15 minutes' walk away).

Left alone now with Oropher and Thranduil, I quickly made to excuse myself, but Oropher began to speak.

"I know it is late, Rhodri, but I wonder if we could speak with you for a few moments?"

I was intrigued. And absolutely not tired.

"Certainly," I said with an obliging nod.

"Could we perhaps take the conversation somewhere a little more… personal?" Thranduil asked, looking around a little.

"Sure," I answered. "Lead the way."

They took me into the room where Bregedúr and the others had presented themselves, and opened a door behind Oropher's throne, and invited me inside. It was a splendid room, with handsome furniture, tasteful art, and herringbone-style wooden floors. This must have been where they had official audiences with visiting monarchs and dignitaries.

I sank into a deliciously soft armchair, and Oropher and Thranduil sat opposite me.

"You likely already know why we have asked to speak with you, Rhodri," Oropher began.

I shook my head. "No, as a matter of fact, this has taken me by surprise," I replied, "but I'm more than happy to be enlightened."

This didn't seem to be what Oropher was expecting to hear, but he took it in his stride as he started to explain.

"A day or two ago, Legolas spoke with us both quite frankly about how he was hurt and dismayed by how we have handled his fear of spiders."

So I was right. He had diplomatically read them the riot act. My inner self was performing a small victory dance. What progress Legolas had made- starting out so afraid of spiders that I couldn't curl my fingers up without it evoking a full-on shutdown, and now he had the confidence to slay giant spider demons and call out intimidating parental figures on their bad habits.

I nodded. Thranduil then spoke up at this point.

"It was… very confronting," he twiddled his thumbs uneasily. "We were foolish to continue pushing so mercilessly when he only became more afraid of them with time, but we were so sure that it would eventually work."

There were things I wanted to say to the two of them that would not have been correct behaviour as a psychologist. I did not have the time to unpack their issues right now, I wanted to fob advice onto them, and I didn't even have any consent forms for them to sign, anyway. I decided this would be off the books. No notes, no diagnoses, just a frank discussion as a helpful acquaintance. You know, sort of like when you get a stranger's life story on the bus and you give them a few pointers before you reach your stop.

"What do you think was the main problem?" I asked them both.

They simultaneously furrowed their brows, both drumming their fingers on their respective armrests. It was vaguely unnerving to think they were parent and child, rather than fraternal twins.

"I think there were likely a few problems," began Oropher with a sigh. "We disregarded his feelings; we tried to improve Legolas' problem with cruel measures; and we did not listen to him."

Ah. We had hit on the main one. "_We did not listen to him_." It was very impressive that Oropher had reached that conclusion so quickly, and seemingly on his own. Thranduil nodded sorrowfully in agreement.

I am quite sure that at least 65% of arguments could be avoided if all parties listened properly, but the workings of our own mind- our mental dialogue, wants, and needs- can be so loud that it drowns out all incoming information.

If 65% of arguments could be fixed by listening, the other 35% could be resolved through proper compromise. Being able to meet someone in the middle is an exhausting exercise which people cannot necessarily be expected to do on their own. Indeed, many arguments fall into the purview of the legal profession, so it's never a black and white affair. But I got the impression that the Mirkwood Royals had become very accustomed to a 'my way or the highway' approach. It's intended to command respect, but it seldom does much more than make one appear as a pig-headed nightmare.

I tapped my lips with my finger as I considered all this. "Do you think this was a frequent occurrence while Legolas was younger?"

"Oh, yes," said Thranduil heavily. "We had far shorter tempers after my wife and my mother were killed, so we were firm and unyielding so as to not leave room for any provocation on Legolas' part. Too firm, in hindsight, I would say," he added sadly.

So they were coping with their grief by shying away from anything that could evoke strong emotions. That's not uncommon. Many people try treating their grief like a lit candle, hoping that if they put it in a bell jar, it will eventually extinguish of its own accord. In reality, it works more like a volcano that will intermittently explode under too much pressure.

"Did you two even have time to process your own grief after these awful incidents?" I asked.

"Well, no," said Thranduil. "We had duties. I had a child—"

"And I had a kingdom to oversee," added Oropher.

"You know this isn't sustainable, don't you?" I looked at them seriously. "You can't live like this. I know that you're both trying to improve. I saw it in the way you've been talking with Elrond and the others. It's a terrific start, truly it is, but you will keep finding unhealthy quick-fixes to deal with your grief if you don't do something about it, and if it's not Legolas suffering, it'll be you."

They stared at me in silence, their piercing blue eyes wide with fear.

"But what—how—" Oropher whispered. I gently put a hand up to cut him off.

"_Grieve_," I enunciated clearly. "Cry. Look at pictures of them, think back to when they were around. Acknowledge how unhappy you are that they died. Feel angry, in denial, cry again, come to terms with it. Be open about it with people you trust. Go on holiday. If someone provokes you, ask to talk about it later."

Oropher and Thranduil swapped between chewing on their lips and struggling to keep their breathing even as they frantically flicked their eyes everywhere.

"I'm not going to be able to say much more to the two of you here, because this is overwhelming for you. I understand that. I will give you two tips on top of what I've said tonight."

I held up my index finger. "One: prioritise everyone's wellbeing and seek ideas from others on how best to achieve that. You don't have all the answers."

My thumb shot out. "Two: Draw some boundaries. Take care of yourselves and each other. Don't try to hold it together by acting like a pack of wild dogs, snapping at each other to try and assert dominance. Ask for help, receive help, give help freely. Be who you would like for yourselves."

They looked like they were inches away from losing it completely. It was time for me to leave them be to let the mourning begin at last. I stood up and nodded deferentially at both of them. "Come and see me in Imladris if you need anything. Good night, Your Highnesses."

They said nothing; I don't think they could afford to let a sound escape without it turning into a sob. I gave them one more nod, then left the room.

It was hard to know exactly what would come of us sitting there and talking. Some people really just need a couple of talkings-to, maybe a little unpacking, and it genuinely changes them. Others don't ever progress, or, worse still, they learn how to put on a good face in the presence of others to give the impression of improvement, but their behaviour remains as toxic as ever. The outcome reveals itself slowly and over a long time, so for these two, it was a case of watching and waiting.

Officially, my part in this was over, but as I walked down the hallway to my room, I resolved to let Legolas know he was welcome to write or visit me in Imladris at any time. I paused as I opened the door as the realisation hit me that if things between Legolas and Bregedúr kicked off, I might be seeing a lot more of this place. Cue a tiny, very excited smile.

The next day it was goodbye for real. We were up with the sun, and after we had said farewell to the Three Blonds (with great reluctance on Bregedúr's part, be assured), we were on the road, pursuing adventure like a duck going after a June bug.

Thus followed a glorious month and a half of horseback riding, laughing, singing, campfiring, and swapping stories.

Glorfindel, bless him, had brought the hammock and informed everyone that trampolining would commence every second day one hour before sunset. This meant that every second day, we were only allowed to set up camp if the place had a tree with suitable branches.

Naturally, Bregedúr was keen, and got hooked at once. She even got a few flips in. Gil-Galad was won over by Glorfindel's endearing enthusiasm and enjoyed himself so much that he willingly had a turn whenever it was offered to him.

It took a while to convince Elrond to give it a go. A worrier by nature, he was sure something would go wrong, but when he heard Gil-Galad getting excited for his turn, he caved and allowed himself to be persuaded to have a turn, which was met with a rousing cheer from all of us.

After a few careful, gentle bounces, he had a try bouncing off it from the branch above, and by god, he did a pike twist and stuck the landing perfectly. Well, we lost it. The four of us were shouting like monkeys, uninhibited by formal surroundings or roles, clapping and stomping our feet. I've never seen someone look so embarrassed but so pleased all at once as Elrond's face in that moment.

As lovely as the camping trip was, it was splendid to come home. I hadn't realised how much I had missed the place until I was greeted with that same, stunning view as on the day had arrived there with Bregedúr. My heart full at the sight of it, we trotted up to the main house a little more quickly than we had been going prior.

In the main courtyard, we dismounted our horses and passed them over to the stable hands. As we grabbed our bags, a couple approached us, accompanied by someone I recognised to be one of Elrond's advisors.

And my god, it happened again.

**Music Notes**

Rhodri: Night Time- Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium (playful, intuitive, benign, contemplative, joyful)

Glorfindel: iii. Mercury- from Gustav Holst's 'The Planets' suite (lively, zippy, interested, easily excited, genial)

Bregedúr: True Love's First Kiss- John Powell, from Shrek 1 (tempestuous, impulsive, heroic, caring, tender)

Gil-Galad: A Wondrous Place- Mark Mancina, from Tarzan (the drums don't quite tie in, but the rest works precisely) (quiet, introspective, virtuous, selfless, brave)

Elrond: Nocturne in Eb Major- Frédéric Chopin (subtle, emotional, insightful, gentle, elegant)


	16. There's something about Elrond

Not to dive into some sort of hyper-poetic rhapsody, but I witnessed one of those moments that divides a person's life into two parts: everything that ever happened before this moment, and whatever came after it.

We were standing the five of us abreast: Elrond to my right, Bregedúr to my left, and the other two to the left of Bregedúr. I heard the softest exhale- an inverted gasp, really, come from Elrond. I glanced over, once again worried that one of my friends was choking, and saw Elrond with a look on his face that I hadn't ever witnessed before.

His features, usually arranged into a rather sage, serious ensemble, had completely softened now. I could barely tell his eyes were quicksilver grey, because his pupils were now so enlarged that they had almost entirely obscured his irises. And then it hit me, before I even looked up to follow the course of his gaze: he's just seen someone who's made his breath catch.

Sure enough, when I directed my sight forward, I saw two arrestingly beautiful Elven women. They looked very similar, with the same azure eyes and oval face, but the one on the left was a little taller, with blonde and silver tresses, and the one to the right had locks of solid silver.

I had just started internally debating which of these ladies it was who had just taken my friend's breath away (or, god forbid, if it was both), when the advisor escorting them spoke.

"My Lord Elrond, the Lady Galadriel and her daughter Celebrían," he announced, indicating the blonde and the silver respectively.

"Good day, Lord Elrond," Galadriel said with a smile. Her voice was deep and rich, both mysterious and full of authority.

Fortunately, Elrond was far more subtle than Bregedúr when it came to love at first sight, and he gave no ostensible indication that Galadriel's daughter had just turned his world upside down. He stepped forward, a noble smile on his face, and took the hand Galadriel offered him and politely kissed it.

Now, turning to face Celebrían, I could see, from almost three metres away, that the pulse in Elrond's neck was beating like a bass thumping at a music festival. I could have sworn I could hear his heart pounding with my own ears as she started to speak.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Elrond," she said in a tone that was as silver as her hair, giving him a gentle smile as she offered her hand to him.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Celebrían," he replied after giving said hand a chaste kiss and permitting himself to return her smile. "Welcome to Imladris."

As he stood there, being a good host and asking them all sorts of ridiculous courtesy questions, I scanned the others for a sign that they had picked up on any of this as well, but their expressions were all neutral as ever. My eyes widened as I realised that none of them had noticed anything out of the ordinary at all. Unbelievable!

"Are you well, Rhodri?" asked Glorfindel suddenly, a look of concern on his face.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt as everyone turned around to look at me. I realised I had unconsciously put my hand to my mouth, and my eyes had been wide all this time, so Glorfindel must have thought I was moments away from emptying my stomach all over Elrond's nice, clean floor.

I ripped my hand away, plastered an untroubled smile on my face and said, "Oh, yes, sorry, I just realised I left my toothbrush back in Mirkwood."

"Your _what_?" Gil-Galad yelped, eyes as wide as mine.

Oh, shit. Toothbrushes hadn't come to Middle-Earth yet. They were all looking at me like I was a serial killer now.

"Is that- do you mean you possess a brush made of teeth, or that this brush is to be used on teeth?" Elrond asked, his polite tone barely concealing his horror.

I held up my hands quickly. "Oh, no, no, it is a vanity item that was very popular among my mortal friends. It is a wooden stick with bristles that polishes teeth, you see. I simply carry it with me as a souvenir."

A silence fell over the eight of us for the next thirty seconds as the appalled expressions of all present relaxed just a little. It seemed I had managed to marginally improve the situation. I had been promoted from suspected throat-cutting hobbyist to harmless freak who toted around other races' hygiene items for fun.

Communications resumed at about the speed ice melts. Unable to stand a moment more of it, I made my excuses and departed, deciding to drop my bag off at my room and begin constructing a spaceship that would bear me away from this planet as soon as possible.

I was in the corridor adjoining my bedroom when I heard laboured footsteps coming from behind. Turning around, I saw Glorfindel some metres away, doubled over and wheezing audibly. He paused for a moment to look up at me, and immediately dissolved into paroxysms of shrieking laughter.

"_Glorfindel_!" I hissed in alarm. I ran over, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him into my room with me before his ringing howls of amusement could attract any attention.

"The state of you!" I said in disbelief, hands on my hips as I shook my head, watching this twit crylaugh into his hands for another two minutes.

"Ah, I apologise, Rhodri," he finally said, wiping the tears off his face. "That really was shockingly awkward, though. People must have thought you were a murderer-"

"_Yes,_ yes," I groaned, waving a hand impatiently. "As if I hadn't thought of that already! Why do you think I made such a quick escape? Now, are you going to help me cast the spell that makes the earth swallow me up, or are you not?"

He gave me a sunny smile. "How about something better than that?"

"A spell that makes the earth fly into the sun?"

"Even better. Let's go swimming," he said, pointing out the window. "It's just started raining." His blue eyes sparkled with winsome delight as he looked at me, awaiting my answer.

I felt a broad smile spread over my face. I had never met someone as impossible to get sick of as Glorfindel. A nod of my head was all it took for him to beam at me, and with that, we hopped the balcony and made our way through the rain out to the pools.

Funnily enough, nobody else had thought to go swimming, so we had the entire place to ourselves. A small blessing, as I did not want to see, or be seen by, another living creature at that point.

"So what happened back there, anyway?" Glorfindel asked as our third water fight drew to a close.

"Hmm?" I looked up, feigning confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come now, Rhodri," he said with a knowing smile. "You're usually never afraid to be the odd one out. Suddenly escaping at the first possible opportunity? Decidedly out of character."

I felt my expression falter, and then I sighed. "All right," I relented. "I'll tell you, but this absolutely must stay between us! Not a soul can know, no matter how tempting it gets!"

"Of course," he nodded earnestly.

"Swear on it!" I held out my little finger. He smiled and laughed a little as he wrapped his little finger around mine.

"Does this actually have any binding magic?" he enquired as we shook our interlocked fingers up and down firmly.

"Will my answer have any impact on how well you keep your promise?"

"Not at all."

"Then no," I answered. "It is merely for peace of mind and the right to visit public shame on the person who breaks the pinky promise by announcing it loudly in disbelief."

"Threatening enough," he acknowledged. "Now, tell me all."

We perched up on a couple of branches as I spilled the details, and Glorfindel's jaw was in his lap by the end of it.

"Elrond is in _love_?" he whispered ecstatically. "_Magnificent!_ Oh, what happy news," he cooed as he drummed my shoulder with his hands, clearly thrilled to bits. "Wouldn't it be just lovely if they married?"

"Steady now," I said, putting an arm around him with a laugh. "We don't know that she likes him back yet, for a start. We don't even know _her_," I added as an afterthought. "And I don't know how much we could really learn about them to try and set them up without revealing to Elrond what we know."

"I wonder if Elrond is actually aware that he has fallen for someone," Glorfindel mused.

"Has he ever been like this before?"

"Never," Glorfindel answered, shaking his head firmly. "I was under the impression he was married to his career, and you know we only partner once, so I had assumed that that was Elrond's lot in life," he added with a wink.

I laughed and shook my head. "Ah, you know, this is going to be a real bastard of a thing to keep on the down low." Glorfindel sighed and nodded.

And it was, too. Galadriel and Celebrían had apparently come to Rivendell because Galadriel was looking for her husband (had she misplaced him?). Celeborn, said missing husband, was indeed in Rivendell, which sorted that mystery out mighty quick.

But then another mystery seemed to pop up, which I had quite forgotten to anticipate. Elrond was such a stolid, constant sort of person that any changes (even borderline imperceptible ones) in his mien or behaviour were enough to spark conversation. It wasn't my mystery so much as others were mystified by it.

Some days after our return, I was sitting in my office, between appointments, bouncing my ball against the opposite wall and catching it. A figure materialised at the entryway. I recognised who it was instantly and bounced the ball straight at them.

"Hello, Rhodri," said Gil-Galad pleasantly as he entered the room, holding the ball up for me to take.

"Good to see you, Gil-Galad," I smiled, inviting him to sit. "Take a load off. Shall we break out the checkers board?"

"Actually, Rhodri, perhaps not today," he politely declined. He strode over and sat down, looking rather businesslike.

I was confused. Gil-Galad loved checkers and would often swing by when the clinic was at a lull and thoroughly whip me in a few rounds. And he was usually much more smiley, too.

"What's going on, Gil-Galad?" I asked, a little worried now.

"Well, I was hoping you might tell me," he replied. "It all seems a bit off, but not in a way I can put my finger on," he rested his head in one hand and looked off to the distance as he frowned.

"What in particular is displaying hints of… ah… 'off-ness?'"

Gil-Galad looked up sharply. "You mean you haven't noticed it?"

"I'm afraid for a definitive answer, you will need to be a little more specific," I shrugged at him.

"Elrond," he said simply.

Ah, now the penny had dropped. "Oh, I see," I chuckled. "There have been some small variations in his manner of late, yes. What have you noticed?"

"Well…" Gil-Galad began. He looked around nervously, organising his thoughts. "He mostly conceals it very well, but he seems to get nervous and forgetful now."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Not enough that he makes any errors or social gaffes," he added quickly. "No, just enough to show that something is going on under the surface."

"Give me an example," I requested.

"Well, only yesterday, Elrond and I were talking in the courtyard. The conversation went well until the Lady Galadriel walked by with Lord Celeborn and Celebrían and a few others. He suddenly started to freeze up a little, and the words he said ended up off topic. At some point he seemed to have a hard time concentrating, and I could see his pulse in his neck hammering."

Gil-Galad leaned in and beckoned me to come closer. "Do you know, Rhodri, I- I think Elrond might have social anxiety, too. Perhaps he is terrified of the Lady Galadriel, though there is no need for it, as she is very fond of him."

He sighed, looking relieved that he had gotten that off his chest. "What do you think, Rhodri?"

I was in a pickle here. I hated to lie to Gil-Galad, but I knew Elrond would be beyond mortified if I told his boss he was head over heels, and that he was probably distracted because he was imagining himself putting a ring on Celebrían's finger. I decided to take the middle road and strictly answer his questions. Lying by omission, as it were.

"Hard to say, really, Gil-Galad," I replied. "I have noticed the things you have mentioned from time to time, too, but I couldn't confirm or deny something like social anxiety without doing an assessment first."

"Will you talk to him about it?" he asked. "If it is social anxiety, I want to help him through this."

I smiled. Gil-Galad was a solid, dependable friend, and it warmed my cockles to see how much he cared about Elrond's wellbeing.

He saw my smile and looked at me quizzically. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because you're a wonderful person," I answered simply, sending my friend beet red. "Look, here's the thing," I continued."Even if it's not social anxiety or an irrational fear of Lady Galadriel, Elrond will always be better off with your love and support. Just small things like asking how he is going from time to time, reminding him to take a deep breath if he looks nervous, and providing helpful cues to keep him on track with your conversations. Don't get angry or hurt if he forgets, just have patience and compassion."

Gil-Galad considered what I said, and nodded. "Of course," he said. "But it would be good for him to get checked, I think. Promise me you will speak with him?"

"When a suitable moment arises, I promise to talk with him," I guaranteed, crossing my heart as I did so.

He seemed satisfied with this, and said, "Excellent. In that case, if you have the time now, I would love to thrash you at a game of checkers."

I rolled my eyes at his smack talk and got up to retrieve the checkers board, retorting, "You're a beautiful dreamer, Gil-Galad, no two ways about it, but it won't save you from crushing defeat."


	17. Setting the record straight

Let me make it clear that I am not the kind of person to go back on a promise. Once I've given my word, I keep it without question, no matter the consequences to myself. This means that when agreeing to a promise, I have to ensure that (a) the promise is something that I can actually keep, and (b) that there aren't any unfair loopholes.

My promising Gil-Galad to speak to Elrond about this presumed 'disorder' had thus far remained congruent with my goals of protecting Elrond's privacy by means of the simple clause 'when a suitable moment arises.' A suitable moment might not arise for quite some time, for all we knew. The issue might even have 'resolved' on its own before such an opportunity made itself available.

And indeed, the suitable moment was really dragging its feet. Spring had turned to summer, and Gil-Galad was nearly due to move on with his legion to the Grey Havens. Bregedúr had already left to scout out near Mirkwood on a mission only vaguely official in nature. In all, things were mostly pretty quiet on the home front, with one exception.

In the lead-up to his departure, Gil-Galad was revealing himself to have skills in worry-wartery that rivalled even Elrond's best efforts.

It was an achievement that in theory would have had me in awe were it not for the fact that in practice, it was getting quite repetitive. Since our first conversation about Elrond's wellbeing, Gil-Galad had been going out of his way to spend time with me in private to worry over our beloved pal, and my knowing the true underlying cause of Elrond's 'symptoms' had only made these meetings yet more interminable.

There was no question that Gil-Galad was one of my best friends. I loved him dearly, and we always had a swell old time together, but rehashing a topic at every opportunity, even when the surrounding activity is fun, gets old pretty quick.

About a week before he was due to ship out, Gil-Galad had asked me indulge him in a scintillating post-lunch round of yahtzee (I had recently carved my own dice, and the game had become an instant favourite of his) along with a slice of orange cake in my office. He hadn't mentioned badgering me about Elrond, but I knew that would be on the cards as well.

"A full house, Rhodri!" Gil-Galad exclaimed after checking the dice, noting my score down on a scrap of paper. "That puts you at 97."

I had made Gil-Galad assume the yahtzee scorekeeping duties this time, partly because I loathed arithmetic, and partly in the hopes it would keep him too busy to launch into the trials and tribulations of Elrond.

That, however, was not to be. Gil-Galad won the first round, and it seemed to have emboldened him to multi-task.

"Elrond hasn't really improved much," Gil-Galad lamented as he tossed the dice out of the cup.

"Well, to be fair, Gil-Galad, this _has_ been going on for a few months now, and it's only been about 48 hours since we last discussed it," I patiently pointed out as I picked at the icing on my cake. "Such a rapid and significant change in behaviour is quite unlikely at this point, unless Elrond accidentally slips and smashes his head on a rock. Which, by the way," I added quickly, holding up a warning finger as Gil-Galad looked up in interest, "is _not_ a solution to this."

Gil-Galad sighed in defeat and tapped the pencil on the desk.

"Do you think you'll be able to talk to him about it any time soon?" he asked.

I kept my face as expressionless as I could, allowing myself to sigh on the inside only. Our meet-ups was going to go on like this until I snapped and did something harsh like instigate a moratorium on Gil-Galad's yahtzee privileges. I had to grasp the nettle now or risk doing something I'd regret later.

"Hmm, well, I'm seeing Elrond this afternoon," I said after a moment. "I'll try bringing it up then."

Gil-Galad settled down quite nicely after that, which I loved for the conspicuous absence of his carping, but regretted because it somehow made it even easier for him to continue wiping the floor with me in our successive yahtzee rounds. It was a game of chance, and yet he still won every time, just like in checkers. Inconceivable.

After Gil-Galad and I had packed up and clapped each other on the shoulder in farewell, I made for Elrond's study for Happy Hour, feeling like a lady of leisure who spent her days flitting from one social event to the next.

I intentionally took my time getting there because I wondered how on earth I would broach the topic about Elrond's changed behaviour in a way that left his romantic life out of the picture.

By the time I had reached the door to Elrond's study and did my characteristic 'shave and a haircut' knock, I had formulated a half-baked plan that with any luck, improvisation would round out nicely as I went.

"Hello, Rhodri," Elrond greeted me with a fond smile as he opened the door and joined me in the corridor. "Where will our brisk walk take us today?"

"Hmm, ideally somewhere quite secluded, if possible," I requested. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about, Elrond. Rather personal, you know how it is."

Elrond's face made an understanding sort of expression.

"Ah, yes, I've been expecting this," he said in an intuitive tone, missing, or perhaps politely overlooking the fact that my jaw had just dropped like a stone. "Perhaps we should leave the walk for today and take the discussion in here over a glass of wine. Is that agreeable to you, Rhodri?"

I snapped out of my shock at that point. "Ah, yes! Great. Thanks very much, Elrond, that'd be lovely."

We stepped back into his study, where Elrond filled two glasses with sweet white wine, and then headed out to our usual spot on the balcony.

"So, ah, you've been expecting this, you say, Elrond?" I broached tentatively.

"Indeed I have. I had been planning to broach it with you today, myself," Elrond replied with a small nod.

This was not the response I had been banking on. I had assumed that this entire thing was going to take him by surprise in the extreme, enough that I wondered if I would need to keep smelling salts on hand in case he passed out. Still, I was happy that such measures seemed unnecessary today, and so I indulged my curiosity a little further.

"How long have you known? I asked him.

"Oh, the last few months, really, I would say," Elrond answered in a rather casual tone. "Honestly, though, I'm glad you've come to talk to me about it, because it seems like it's been on your mind for quite some time."

"You have no idea," I agreed, nodding fervently.

Elrond gave me a smile as warm as sunlight. "I spoke about it with Glorfindel first," he added. "I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no, no, you tell whoever you want, Elrond," I said, giving him the thumbs up and taking a relieved sip of wine.

"It's wonderful, really, isn't it?" Elrond continued before putting a hand on my arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I think you and Gil-Galad make an _exceptional_ couple."

I spat my wine out so forcefully that it sprayed all the way across the balcony and into the flowerbox on the balustrade.

Elrond recoiled in his seat in shock. "Goodness, Rhodri, are you all right?" he asked in alarm. "Is something wrong with the wine?"

"_Gil-Galad_?" I spluttered in disbelief, wine dripping from my chin.

"Y-yes?" Elrond confirmed worriedly, baffled that he had provoked such a reaction.

"You think that Gil-Galad and I are, what… _courting_?" I squeaked, drying my face with a napkin Elrond passed me.

"Well, yes, Rhodri, I _did_ mean in the romantic sense," Elrond retorted, arching an eyebrow. "Did you think this was about having a companion to play yahtzee with?"

"I didn't think this was about- where did you even _get_ that idea?"

"Oh, come on, Rhodri," Elrond said, gently rolling his eyes now. "There's no need to pretend with me. Gil-Galad has been spending every minute he can get his hands on alone with you these last few months!"

I laughed wildly for a moment as I thought about all the times I had wanted to ping a die or two off Gil-Galad's head when he'd started worrying about Elrond during all this time alone we'd had. To be sure, I had always enjoyed myself overall, but Lord have mercy.

"Look, Elrond, there's been one hell of a misunderstanding here. There is absolutely no way, no way on God's green earth, that Gil-Galad and I will become attached in that way. Best friends forever, yes. Yahtzee partners, yes. Romantic pair, never. There will be a blizzard on Mount Doom before that happens."

Elrond sat there for a moment with his eyes wide as dinner plates while he took all this in. I used this time to rub my temples and prepare for the horrific embarrassment of having to reveal this to Gil-Galad later. What a nightmare.

"Well, if that wasn't what you wanted to talk about, what was, then?" he eventually asked.

I sighed. "Well, what I wanted to speak about is part of why Gil-Galad has been coming to me so frequently of late."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he and I both noticed that you've been acting a little differently since we came home."

Elrond looked a little anxious now.

I gently held up a hand. "Nothing severe," I reassured him. "Just that you seem to have some trouble concentrating sometimes, and occasionally come across as a little nervous. We just want to make sure that everything is all right with you, and that you can come and talk to either of us any time if you ever need anything. You know we'll always be here for you." Now it was my turn to give his arm a small squeeze. "We just care about you and want you to be happy."

I had deliberately avoided asking if anything was wrong, because Elrond gave absolutely no sign of wanting to open up about this. Instead, a loving message of support with a vague opportunity to let him confirm or deny that he was all right skirted around the romance topic but still fulfilled the promise I had made to Gil-Galad.

Elrond's face had become unreadable now, a sure sign that my vague but genuine message was the best response, but then he eventually fell into a small smile.

"Yes," he said with a sigh, "I had wondered if others had noticed. I am well, though, thank you, and I imagine it will pass soon enough." He nodded, like he was forcing himself to believe his own words.

"Well, even if it didn't, or if it got worse, you know we love you just the same," I said with a smile. "You'll always be our Elrond."

His smile broadened and grew more genuine now. "Just like you'll always be our Rhodri," he returned.

There was nothing more to say there, so we enjoyed a companionable silence together for the last quarter hour, our hearts both a little fuller than when we had started out. Once again, Happy Hour had worked its magic on us.

And thank god for that, too, because now I had to have that awkward conversation with Gil-Galad. Elrond and I strolled out of the office and down to the dining hall.

Just outside the hall, we ran into Glorfindel, who strolled up to us with a gentle smile on his face.

"I believe congratulations are in order," Elrond said to us with a laugh, and left us standing in the corridor as he entered the hall alone.

"Oh my god, Glorfindel, no they are not," I said, turning to face Glorfindel quickly.

Glorfindel looked at me worriedly. "Is everything all right?"

"Magnificent, thank you," I answered. "You have been misinformed."

We stood outside a few minutes longer as I explained what had happened, and when I had finished, Glorfindel laughed.

"So no wedding for you and Gil-Galad, is that right?" he giggled.

"That's absolutely right. No wedding whatsoever," I shook my head hard. "Better as a friend, for sure."

"None whatsoever?" he asked. "You don't want to marry at all?"

"Oh, someday I wouldn't mind," I said thoughtfully. "Just not to Gil-Galad," I added with a laugh.

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "Perfectly fair. Shall we go and eat our bodyweight in food, then?"

I shot him the thumbs-up, and we both bounded cheerfully into the hall with a spring in our step.


	18. Time: stretches and squishings-together

Gil-Galad was absolutely aghast when I told him what people had been suspecting about us over the last few months. I had to leave him alone in my office to fetch an emergency wine, he was so shocked.

And naturally, as a good friend does, I mocked him mercilessly about this absurd situation during his last week in Rivendell- only when we were alone with Elrond and Glorfindel, of course, though that was rather frequent.

"So, when will you next be back in Imladris, Gil-Galad?" I asked him as the four of us squandered the last hour of daylight on Elrond's balcony. "Don't think I'm going to hang around forever waiting for you to get a ring on my finger!"

Gil-Galad rolled his eyes and snapped, "Oh, shut up," as Elrond and Glorfindel sniggered noisily behind their wine glasses.

He saw me still watching his face in curiosity, though, and decided to forgive me enough to answer my question.

"I could not say with certainty, but I imagine I will return within the decade or thereabouts."

"_Decade?_" I cried. "But- ten years- that's _ages_ away!"

The three of them chuckled softly at that.

"The first hundred years always goes slowly," Elrond said with a smile. "Don't worry, it will speed up soon enough. When you get to our age, ten years passes like that." He snapped his fingers.

That wasn't of much comfort to me at that particular moment, my first century still being some 65 years off. I grumbled into my wine.

Still, it wasn't as though there was a lack of things to do in the lead up to Gil-Galad's next visit. I had decided that if we were ever plunged into war again (not impossible) I would absolutely not be staying at home this time. A Maia, not fighting! It was preposterous to me. Glorfindel, like the good egg that he was, offered to keep teaching me to fight, so most days we would spend a few hours practicing together after I closed the clinic in the afternoon.

Bregedúr _eventually_ returned from Mirkwood after a long delay. She somehow managed to inform me with a straight face that her belated arrival was due to moss growing over the main road out, which had created a slipping hazard. I had to excuse myself from the room to laugh hysterically in the corridor before the conversation could resume.

Irrespective of the reason, naturally, I was happy to see her again. It had been quiet without my zealous, ebullient best buddy, and I relished the seamless reinsertion of our noisy shenanigans into the schedule.

Slipping into that casual normalcy was pleasant as could be, and time seemed to go at a fairly reasonable pace when those sorts of things were happening.

With that said, though, things were still torturously slow when it came to Elrond's romantic life. Celebrían and her parents ended up staying in Imladris for quite a number of years, and in all that time, there was not any outward hint of a romantic development between him and her.

I didn't think about it too much, because of course, what Elrond did with his affections was none of my damned business, and that was perfectly fine. However, it was excruciating to do things like sit at the table with him and Celebrían, watching the two talk perfectly calmly while the pulse in Elrond's throat was going like a storm. A human with that sort of sustained cardiac activity would have snuffed it mid-meal.

Glorfindel and I agreed that the situation was bloody dreadful, and though we didn't want to interfere too much, we did what we could to try and at least give Elrond and Celebrían more chances at time alone together. If we saw them talking, we tried to head off anyone wishing to find them. We strategically occupied seats so they were forced to sit together. We did our best and hoped that our efforts would at least statistically significantly increase the chances of things moving along.

And it wasn't as though Elrond and Celebrían gave any indication of disliking the outcome: it was very clear that both enjoyed the other's company. They'd chat for hours quite happily. I even faked being busy on a handful of Happy Hour days when I thought Celebrían looked extremely available so that Elrond would be forced to find someone else to play checkers with. But my god, the way the shyness dragged on. At times, I entertained the idea of shipping a handful of mortals into Imladris, because even if they didn't live forever, being forced to watch such an agonisingly slow romance unfold would certainly make it feel that way.

On the bright side, though, Galadriel, Celeborn, and Celebrían were a fun bunch. Galadriel was one of those trailblazing badass bitches who did as she pleased and managed to carry it off beautifully. I could have listened to her stories all day. Celeborn was a quieter sort- no slouch himself, but pleasantly bookish and decidedly content to let Galadriel steer the ship.

And Celebrían, well, she was a lovely blend of the two- studious and fiery, keen on swapping ideas and stories, and quite simply endowed with the sort of personality that left everyone wanting more. I found that I really enjoyed her company, and though my priority was to give her time with Elrond, Celebrían ended up hanging out with me and the others quite often, so she became a good friend of ours.

Celebrían was a keen gardener, and knew positively encyclopaedic amounts about flora (I was a keen learner). We liked to spend time in the communal gardens doing all sorts of landscaping, talking about life, and making up ridiculous songs in the sunshine.

As we sat in one of the garden beds digging up a few buckets full of carrots one sunny afternoon, I saw that Celebrían winced in pain a little whenever she tried wrenching a carrot out of the soil.

"Hey, are you all right?" I asked, a little worried. "Looks like something's hurting you there."

"Hmm?" she looked up. "Oh, this? It's just my fingers are a little sore, that's all."

She held up a hand and as we both glanced at it, I recognised the problem right away, having seen it quite a number of times in my career. Her normally tapered fingertips were red and swollen, and I could see a little bloodiness around the quick on some of the fingers. Celebrían had been biting her fingernails, and it looked like she'd been pretty hard on them.

"You know, Celebrían, I have quite a lot of experience in fixing sore fingers like those," I said off-handedly. "If you ever want some help with that, you're more than welcome to stop by the office and say hello."

Celebrían looked confused. "I thought you helped with matters of the mind, not the body."

"You'd be amazed how much one influences the other," I replied. "Have a think on it. The option's always there."

"What about today?" she asked. "Do you have time today?"

"I have time right now," I said with a smile, standing up and dusting the soil off my bib-and-brace overalls. I was quite proud of the overalls, by the way. I'd made them myself- a happy set of light blue ones, and I'd sewn a few stars on them. I was the only person in Imladris who had a pair and so looked absolutely ridiculous.

"How about I drop these off at the kitchens," I held up the buckets of carrots, "you go and get changed, and then we'll meet at my office, hey?"

This was met with a happy nod by Celebrían, who stood up and headed off in the other direction.

I strolled unhurriedly through the halls to the kitchens, dropped off our harvest, and then headed up to my office to slip into a robe, when I ran into Elrond just outside. He said nothing for a moment, just stood there and watched me, arms folded and biting his lip, evidently biting back quite a big laugh.

"Listen, Elrond," I said to him in a mock-snappy voice, "don't take your attitude out on me just because you're jealous of my outfit. I've already offered to make you a matching set of overalls, but I can't help you if you won't help yourself."

He snorted, and then his face reddened slightly as his eyes darted to something from behind me. I turned around and saw Celebrían walking over, dirt-free and stunning as ever.

This was awkward. Part of the thing about seeing a psychologist is that you should be able to keep it hidden from others if you so wish. Having Elrond watch Celebrían enter my office without an explicit excuse might have tipped him off to the fact that she was having a session, so I felt it incumbent on me to make something up. And so I did.

"Ah, there you are, Celebrían!" I said with a smile, walking over to her quickly and linking my arm in hers.

"You can laugh all you want, Elrond," I barked at my friend as I led Celebrían to my office, "but it's not just me who thinks they're fabulous. Celebrían here is about to be measured up for her _own_ set of overalls!"

Before Celebrían could say a word, I threw the office door open with a flourish, marched us inside, and closed it again, leaving a speechless Elrond in our wake.

"What on_ earth_ is going on?" Celebrían asked in bewilderment as we went in and sat down.

"Nothing, relax," I said with a casual flick of my hand. "I just had to make something up for confidentiality purposes. Which brings me to my next point…"


	19. Long author's note about Rhodri

No story content in this chapter, so feel free to skip over if you fancy. The story picks up next chapter. The issue about Rhodri having relationships with her clients has been weighing on my mind for a bit, so I'm putting it here in case the same thought occurred to anyone else.

Let me make it absolutely clear that I do not think it is appropriate for clinicians to have multiple relationships if they can possibly avoid it.

Perhaps the most fantastical part of this fanfiction is the fact that Rhodri is even entertaining the notion of being in any sort of relationship with any of the other characters. In real life, clinicians are strictly forbidden both by law and their registration body's codes of conduct and ethics from what is called 'multiple relations', i.e. getting into anything personal or even accepting professional favours (e.g. your client is an electrician and offers to fix the blinking bulb in the office) with clients, or clients' close friends/relatives.

This means that things like friendship, romance, or even accepting occupational favours (e.g. your client is an electrician and offers to fix the blinking light in the office), is unacceptable. Professional and ethical bodies have these rules in place because of the large power differential that exists between clinician and client. Clients arrive at their most vulnerable, and will often divulge things that absolutely nobody else in their life is privy to, often only after building up a relationship with the clinician where they feel safe to do so.

It makes sense to forbid multiple relationships because of how badly things can go for the client and for the clinician. The electrician feeling obliged to fix more things in exchange for the mental health help they're already entitled to receive, the friend who feels less inclined to speak now that they know the clinician like a friend, or perhaps the lover who is afraid that all that has been divulged could be used against them in an argument. And on the clinician's end, it becomes much harder to be objective, or to be able to step away from the problem, because when a loved one is affected, it begins to hurt on a personal level and can be very resource and time-intensive for the clinician. Nobody wins. Despite their best efforts, many clinicians do feel a personal affinity for a client or two at some point in their career, and they often have to speak with another psychologist to de-brief and process these feelings so that the therapeutic relationship with the client can continue. If the clinician feels it cannot because those feelings are too strong, the client is then referred to another psychologist.

With all this in mind, Rhodri would have lost her licence many times over by now had she done any of the stuff she does in Middle-Earth while she was still in London. She never did, of course, and was never tempted to. That it is happening in this fanfiction is because, unfortunately for Rhodri, multiple relationships are completely unavoidable in Middle-Earth. In her new world, the old codes and laws she followed aren't entirely relevant. The three main reasons for this are: the population size of Imladris (at least what it is assumed to be in this fanfiction), the Elves and their culture being what they are, and Rhodri being who she is.

The population in Imladris is really very small. Various conjectures put the size of the settlement as anything between 3 000-6 000—I, personally, guess it's tiny, as the area looks to be minuscule on the maps I've seen. It's very possible that the settled population was only 1 000-2 000 and that there were large influxes of soldiers from outside, which is what I've based my version of Rivendell on. In such a small settlement, everybody knows and relies on each other, so multiple relationships are unavoidable. Duties and personal lives are intimately connected, and in the case of the Eldar, over their incredibly long lives, this only becomes more pronounced. Living in a small town is a very real problem for a lot of health professions in this regard, as many rural and remote doctors, nurses, psychs, and social workers can attest to.

Thankfully, the Elves, not being known to be small-minded gossips or being very hierarchical, seem (imo) more than able to make the necessary boundaries between their personal and professional lives by having a keen sense of privacy, tact, and an understanding of the 'time and place for everything' concept. They are not keen to fight or be manipulative, so it's a sort of utopia for honesty and sensible behaviour (for the most part). You can see an example of this when Glorfindel, despite having manifold opportunity to speak with Rhodri at various times of the day, only spoke to Rhodri about the progress of his nightmares in her office. Thankfully, Rhodri's a quick learner and is similarly disinclined to meanness, manipulation, or dishonesty, so she adapted quite well, when all is said and done.

Elves are not prone to mental illness in Valinor, and are by nature far more immune to many of these issues even in Middle-Earth, where Valinor's protection cannot reach them. That's why you're not going to catch me writing about Elves that with anything that requires medication to manage. Not that it leaves me wanting for variety in what to write about :P The power differential is also somewhat different here, as Rhodri basically turned up in Middle-Earth totally bereft of anything besides the clothes she stood up in and the contents of her backpack. The other odd thing is that Elves are able to enter into each other's minds to some degree, which I'm sure has a strict etiquette code all its own. That would shake up the practice of psychology to an impressive extent.

What makes this situation particularly unique is that Rhodri is the first- and only- psychologist in Imladris. This dramatically changes the context in which multiple relationships occur, because she has to offer her services to anyone who asks it of her. There is absolutely no escaping it for her. She handles it all quite well, though, I think. She prioritises client wellbeing first and foremost.


	20. The Bib-and-Brace Club

"So how long has the nail-biting been going on for, Celebrían ?" I asked as I poured her a glass of water.

Celebrían gently knocked on the desk with her knuckles as she considered my question.

"Not long," she said after a while. "Perhaps only a few years, really."

Keeping my opinions about what constitutes a long time to myself, I nodded. "Would you say it started around the time you came to Imladris?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, actually, I believe it might have."

"You know, a lot of people bite their nails because they're nervous, bored, angry-- or, in rare cases, because they like the taste. Do you think any of those things apply to you?"

"It… it is hard to say. I seem to do it an awful lot here…" she said uncertainly.

When you're deeply entrenched in a bad habit, it can be quite difficult to pinpoint any specific time you're doing it. Sometimes that can happen because you started doing it in one situation and then it spread to a bunch of other things, too.

Other times it's a sign of a bigger problem, like an anxiety disorder, or obsessive-compulsive disorder. If you're scared all the time, it happens all the time, and after a while, it becomes so ingrained you don't have to be feeling stressed to do it-- but you might end up feeling stressed if you can't do it. I had to rule these possibilities out.

"Hmm," I murmured as I considered her answer. "How are you feeling in general? Are you getting really worried about things that you don't usually worry about?"

She shook her head. "I think I am mostly fine, really."

"How about any unwanted thoughts coming in repeatedly?"

Celebrían blushed and didn't meet my eyes as she sat quietly for a moment.

"I have had repetitive thoughts of late, yes. They can be a little overwhelming at times, but I would not call them entirely unwanted."

I nodded. "So they don't make you distressed when they come to mind?"

Her blush deepened. "Well, no," she said.

Unfortunately, pulling out the checkers board doesn't help to alleviate embarrassment like this. In these moments, it's better to try and ask specific questions to get the exact answers you need to get you to the next step.

"What I'm trying to rule out at the moment is that these thoughts are not of upsetting scenarios like hurting your family, harming yourself, grisly acts of violence, performing acts that would be considered extremely taboo in Elven society, that sort of thing."

Celebrían looked shocked now. "Oh, no, no, nothing like that. Not at all."

"Noted," I said with a nod. "So all in all, are things pretty well as normal for you, then?"

"For the most part, I would say, yes," she said, shifting in her seat a tad as the pinkness started to creep back onto her cheeks.

I had had a longstanding suspicion that Celebrían returned Elrond's affections, which was the cause of the blushing, so I wanted to make room for her to rule it out when she described her wellbeing as 'mostly' fine. That was a little too ambiguous for the purposes of differential diagnosis.

"I mean, there are some things that happen in life that can upset the way we think, feel, and behave for a while, so if we were to exclude things like grief, romance, or, say, wartime, would you be able to say life is as normal?"

"Yes," Celebrían said confidently, giving a nod.

"Okay," I said, noting that down. "Well, the first thing we want to do with a habit like nailbiting is try and identify a pattern of when it happens. For the next three days, what I want you to do is pay attention to what you're doing right before you bite, and write it down, what time you did it, and what you did after that when you get a moment, all right? Then bring it back here, and we'll have a look at what's going on and see if we can't find a way to do something about what brings it on, and how we can change things up a bit." I drew up a small chart with columns for her to use as a template and gave it to her.

"Very good," Celebrían said, taking the piece of paper.

"I think that's about all we need to do for today. We'll work out our next steps in a few days, eh?"

She nodded and got up, and as she made for the door, she stopped and turned around. "Oh, actually, before I go…"

I looked up from her file. "Mmm?"

Celebrían walked back over to me. "Were you telling Elrond that you were going to measure me up for a pair of these… ah…" she gestured at my outfit.

"Oh, these are called 'bib-and-brace overalls.' Yes, that was what Elrond believes you were in here for, yes."

"I don't suppose it would be possible to procure a pair, would it?" she enquired politely. "Only, my robe gets so dirty in the garden, and your overalls seem like such an excellent idea."

Well, I smiled so hard that my eyes almost popped out. "You absolutely can," I exclaimed excitedly. "Have you got time for me to take a few measurements?"

After a few rounds with the measuring tape and a question or two, Celebrían had decided she wanted a pair of green overalls (her favourite colour) and some flowers embroidered up the legs. I was so excited that I would have an overall buddy that I told Glorfindel I couldn't make weapons practice today due to an emergency personal project.

It took me most of the night, but I had Celebrían 's overalls ready by the next day, just in time for our gardening session, and if I may say so myself, they looked fabulous. She was thrilled, and together, we donned our overalls and busied ourselves with the sweet potato harvest.

We ended up working in the garden for a few hours-- the sweet potato had yielded a bumper crop-- and when we were nearly finished, we heard a very loud, "Oh, _my!"_ come from behind us. I turned around and saw Glorfindel bounding over to us.

"Hey there, Glorfindel," I said with a grin, waving a soil-encrusted hand. "What's new?"

"Your outfits, it would seem!" he replied, looking thoroughly intrigued. "So this was your emergency project, hmm? Is there any chance I could procure one of these exquisite monstrosities?"

I put my hands on my hips. "That's a fine way to talk about our overalls when you're angling to get a pair for yourself." I raised an eyebrow at Glorfindel.

He sprawled on the edge of the garden beside me like a beautiful lizard and gave me a warm, carefree smile. "You love me for my honesty, Rhodri," he purred. "You've said so before."

I gave him a gently scolding look. "I do wish you wouldn't make such good points like that."

Glorfindel's smile grew a little in response and he blinked slowly.

"Oh, all right, then," I relented. "I need your measurements, your favourite colour, and what you want embroidered on the legs."

"Oh, you spoil me, Rhodri," he crooned, and informed me of the size, that they should be yellow, and have black suns sewn on them.

Glorfindel kept me company that night as I made his pair, which made the evening go much faster. Swapping stories does have a magical way of speeding time up.

"Oh, they're absolutely _splendid!"_ he sang as he came out of the change rooms donning them. He admired himself in front of the mirror for a moment, and then turned around and said, "Put on your pair, Rhodri, let's go and garden!"

"Now?" I looked outside. The sun had only just started to show signs of coming back for the day. "It's still dark out."

"Have you ever gardened in the dark before?" Glorfindel asked.

"Mmm, I can't say that I have," I shook my head.

"There's a first time for everything!" his eyes gleamed with excitement as he flitted his gaze between me and the door.

"I get the impression you just want to justify putting those on now," I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Of course I do," he said with a cheeky smile, "but I've never gardened in the dark, either, so it's two adventures at once however you look at it."

He had a point. I threw on my pair and we headed down to the gardens.

It's not a wholly unreasonable thing, gardening at night. Lots of people do moonlight gardening. Unfortunately for us, the moon was in its new phase when we went outside which meant that it was much darker than usual. Still, though, neither Glorfindel nor I were ones to throw in the towel, so we clumsily dug and harvested on until the sky got lighter.

We passed the time playing 20 Questions, and at Glorfindel's insistence, I had to include items from my old world when it was my turn to think of something for him to guess. 20 questions ended up becoming an absurdly low estimate for the number Glorfindel asked about any item.

"So it is not alive, larger than a loaf of bread but smaller than a door, it is in the kitchen, and it is used multiple times a day," Glorfindel mused after his 57th question, rubbing his chin pensively. "It is not a stove, nor is it a bench." He shrugged. "I cannot imagine what it would be."

"That's quite fair," I said with a laugh. "You have not seen a microwave before."

"A _what?"_

I explained the function of the microwave, and Glorfindel looked at me like I'd just told the most ridiculous lie he had ever heard.

"You mean to tell me you put cold food in this box, and with the heat of a thousand suns, it will make your food hot for you in a few seconds?" He laughed so hard and so loud at his own description of the magic hot box that another voice sounded out of nowhere, presumably to scold us for being noisy at such an unsociable hour.

"What on earth—Rhodri, Glorfindel, what are you two wearing? You look absolutely _frightful!"_ said Bregedúr as she strode up to us with her sword slung over her shoulder, her cheeks pink and her face glistening with sweat. She must have been coming back from an early morning training session.

"Why? Do you want a set of your own?" I asked her with a grin.

"Well, of course I do," Bregedúr said as if it were obvious. "If there are matching outfits to be had, I would like to join the fun, however hideous they might be." She half glanced over her shoulder as if she were afraid the fashion police might appear and haul her off for being an accomplice.

I laughed. I didn't think she'd say yes, but if she was serious… "Well," I said, "if you think you can handle the crowds of admirers who will follow you everywhere, all I need are your measurements, favourite colour and design, and by tomorrow, you, too, will be a member of the Bib-and-Brace Club."

Glorfindel's face lit up. "A _club,_ you say! I had no idea. This makes it even more exciting!"

Bregedúr also looked keen at the prospect of membership.

This was getting ridiculous. All I'd done was lie to Elrond about why Celebrían was coming into my office, and now it had snowballed into a secret society for wearers of hideous matching overalls. I'd even given it a name.

Still, though, it was my own fault, and I would just have to ride this whole ridiculous thing out. By the next day, I had a pair of fire-orange overalls with red spirals sewn into the legs ready for Bregedúr, which I quickly shoved into her arms with a nod as we passed each other in the corridor.

I power-walked to my office, keeping my head down all the way, and killed the last ten minutes before Celebrían arrived creating more adventures for my cartoon chicken. Finally, the knock came, and in she walked.

"Hello there," I greeted Celebrían cheerfully as I poured her a glass of water. "How did you go with your habit tracking?"

"Quite well," she answered genially, nodding her head. "I saw that there was an established pattern."

I waited for her to elaborate, but further explanation never came. A hint of redness was appearing on her cheeks.

"Okay, well," I continued, "the way forward from here is to find a way to either cope with the situation, or change the behaviour. I can help you best if you're able to give me a little more information about the pattern you discovered."

Celebrían looked uneasy. "Or," I added, "if you're happy to let me ask the questions I need, I'll do that and you can either answer them or decline and we'll move on to the next question. I don't need very, very specific information- just a very general overview."

This option seemed to relax her a little. "Yes, let's do that," she said with a nod, and with that, the probing began.

"Does the biting start when you get angry or nervous?"

"Nervous," Celebrían confirmed with a nod.

"Are you afraid of the thing making you nervous?"

"Not at all," she shook her head.

"Does the nervous thing make you happy?"

Celebrían nodded.

"I take it that means you don't want to avoid it, then?"

"That's correct."

"Does the nervousness come when you actually are interacting with or doing the thing? Or is it more when you're thinking about it?"

"The latter," Celebrían answered. "When the former happens, I am at ease."

"So it is done in private, yes?"

She nodded.

I drummed my fingers against the desk. One of the simpler ways of changing a behaviour that still occurs under only specific circumstances (in this case, Celebrían sounded like she was biting her nails as she daydreamed about Elrond), is to do something about the nervousness. No nerves, no nailbiting. Unfortunately, I couldn't pinpoint it, so had to simply redirect the behaviour to something a little more constructive—or at the very least, less painful.

"Tell me, Celebrían , do you enjoy biting your nails?"

Celebrían frowned a little. "I would not say that I enjoy it," she said after a moment's thought. "The only purpose it really serves is keeping my hands busy."

"Would you be interested in having something to fidget with instead?" I asked.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, a lot of different groups from my homeland, including the one in which I was raised, used beads on a string to help them concentrate, dispel bad thoughts, keep track of prayers, or just to pass the time."

I opened my desk drawer and took out a set of blue prayer beads I had inherited from my grandfather as a child.

"Something like this was what I had in mind," I said, passing her the beads to look at. "Without the cross, of course, as that would be inappropriate, but you could make your own and put whatever decorative thing you wanted on there."

Celebrían examined the beads with fascination.

"Slip your hand through the circle, and pull the beads over your index finger using your thumb," I suggested, demonstrating with my own hand.

She gave it a try and seemed quite pleased with it. "The beads are very smooth," she commented. "They pass quite easily over my fingers."

"Yes," I said with a smile. "It's amazing how much time can slip by when you fidget with them, and they certainly won't hurt your fingers the way nailbiting does."

"This might be just the thing," she murmured as she continued to string them over her finger.

"You should show this to the jeweller and have them make you one of your own," I said. "Use mine in the meantime, and then I'll grab them back off you when yours are ready. How long do you think it would take for them to make something like that?"

"Oh, it couldn't be more than a few days," Celebrían answered. "I'll drop them back at the office as soon as I get them."

"Jolly good," I said with a nod. "In which case, I suggest we meet up again here in about two weeks to see how the habit is going, yes?"

Celebrían smiled and nodded, and with that, she headed out.

To what must have been the delight of the other Elves tasked with the summer harvesting, the Bib-and-Brace Club seemed to meet rather often in the gardens. I know they all enjoyed the outdoors greatly and loved the beauty of the plants growing in it, but I had not seen such a degree of devotion prior to the advent of these unsightly overalls I'd started to make.

The day after Bregedúr got hers and the five of us sat together, playing a round of 20 Questions and shucking ears of corn in one of the garden beds. As we got louder and more pleased with ourselves, Elrond was walking by and stopped in his tracks as he saw us horsing around, looking like a band of disco hillbillies. His eyes were wide as dinner plates, and as he caught sight of Celebrían in her green pair, he blushed a little, and his shocked face turned into a polite smile for all of us. He gave us a small wave and carried on.

I wasn't sure if Elrond turned up the next day while we were gardening to merely get a laugh in or simply to try and process what these poorly-dressed people were doing in his wholesome Elven suburbs, but after watching us for a moment or two, he proceeded on his way. He did the same thing again the next day.

The third day this happened, though, I wasn't standing for Elrond's hovering any longer, and shouted out to him, "The offer's still there for a pair of your own, my friend!"

Elrond came over to us, a small smile on his face, and when he had reached the edge of the garden bed, he leaned down to our level and said quietly, "As a matter of fact, that won't be necessary."

I raised a suspicious eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Come up to my study and find out for yourselves."

I checked my watch. It was almost time for Happy Hour.

"I will see you all directly," he said, turning on his heel and walking away.

The five of us exchanged glances, head-shakings and shrugs galore before we gave in to our curiosity, dusted ourselves off, and made for the study.

When we reached the door, I knocked on it and found that the door wasn't latched, so it opened up. This wasn't like him. The door was always closed, so something odd was going on here. We piled in and I closed the door behind us as I looked around. Nobody was in the study.

"Let's check the balcony," I said, and as we went out through the doors, I looked to my right and saw a very smug Elrond lounging in his usual chair, sporting a pair of purple overalls with green leaves embroidered on the legs.

"Who wants wine?" he asked as he glanced up at us. He looked so pleased with himself he was almost fit to burst.

We said nothing for a moment, absolutely thunderstruck, but then we burst into a raucous cheer and took turns clapping him on the shoulder in congratulations and disbelief, welcoming him to the Bib-and-Brace Club. This was going to be a Happy Hour to remember.


	21. War is hell

CW: Death, war, violent scene, possibly graphic

I had made a couple of conjectures around the time Elrond suddenly joined the Bib-and-Brace Club. The first was that with this astonishing display of acquiescing to peer pressure and most likely an attempt to win Celebrían's approval (not that he didn't already have it), that things between Elrond and Celebrían would finally take off.

The second was that now that it had reached the high point of Elrond joining, the frequency of which we wore our overalls would drop back down to strictly necessary gardening tasks.

My second projection was spot on; my first, however, was dead wrong. About two months after her fidget beads were finished, Celebrían went back to Lothlórien with her parents, her fingers no longer bloody, and her nails as healthy as ever.

Thus began an incredibly long stretch of the everyday. Entire centuries would stretch by in which no events of historical or personal significance occurred. Not that there was anything wrong with it; the everyday was fantastic. I loved spending time with Bregedúr, Glorfindel, and Elrond, and it only got better when Gil-Galad and Celebrían swung by. I was getting very good at fighting, now, and had a wild time thrashing it out with Bregedúr or Glorfindel or whoever had time for it. They'd even given me command over a small legion of my own, which was pretty cool. The clinic mostly dispensed life advice now that a relative calm had settled over the valley. The overalls were still brought out on special occasions (though Elrond never wore his in front of anyone except us). It was happy enough.

With that said, I couldn't believe the way things between Elrond and Celebrían had stayed so… identical. His pulse would still hammer when they spoke, whether it had been 2 days or a millennium and a half. Thankfully, in this time, any rumour about me and Gil-Galad had been put to rest (except on the occasions when I ribbed him about it in private).

I was starting to think that maybe everything would just continue on this way for eternity (by this point, it had been over 1700 years), and of course, precisely at the moment I started to entertain that thought, everything started to get shaken up.

It was a pleasantly warm afternoon in September. I had been sitting in my office with the door open and when I looked up, I saw a characteristic auburn-headed blur shoot past.

When I went outside, I saw her banging on the door to Elrond's office forcefully.

"Bregedúr!" I called to her, and when she turned to face me, I gasped. She looked exhausted and terrified. I ran over, putting an arm under her for support, and hammered on Elrond's door.

When Elrond opened the door, he caught sight of the two of us and looked alarmed. I guided Bregedúr inside, put her on a seat in his study, and made to leave when Elrond called to me.

"Rhodri."

I turned around, waiting for him to speak.

"I think you had better fetch Glorfindel and Erestor, and then stay for this report. Please also bring some miruvor for Bregedúr along the way."

I nodded, and dashed out, bolting as fast as my legs could carry me to find Erestor, Glorfindel, and then to grab the miruvor. I returned some minutes later with the three deliveries. Elrond took the bottle and poured a small glass for Bregedúr, who downed it in one go. She looked instantly better after that, and after a deep breath, she began to speak.

"Sauron's forces have grown incredibly strong. There is industry as far as the eye can see from such a distance as a little beyond the Fangorn Forest. The sky is black over Mordor from all the smoke. Patrols were everywhere further south. I was able to get close enough to hear one say that they would begin to make for the east if they could get more troops."

My stomach dropped, and we all looked at each other numbly.

"That is not all," she continued. "I retreated and travelled further south, and could see forces from Mordor moving south to the Harad lands. I saw corsair ships coming down the Anduin from time to time also. If Sauron can win their alliance, they will probably outnumber us even if we allied with all the other free races of Middle-Earth."

For a while, nothing was said. Elrond was gripping the armrest on his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white. Erestor and Glorfindel had their hands over their mouths, and I put a hand on Bregedúr's shoulder.

"We will need messages sent out immediately to Lothlórien, Lindon, Gondor, Arnor, Khazad-dûm, and Mirkwood, Erestor," Elrond said. "They need this news, and to avail themselves to meet here at the earliest opportunity." Erestor nodded and swiftly the room, his navy robes trailing out behind him.

Elrond turned to face Glorfindel and me. "Imladris will have to increase production of arms and defence goods," he said with resolve. "Stockpiling non-perishable food must become a focus as well, and we must create large reserves of medicines."

"I will go to the forge and the carpenters now, then," I said, standing up

"And I to the harvesters and chemists," said Glorfindel.

We both nodded at Elrond and Bregedúr and departed quickly.

Bregedúr's keen eye and intuition snapped us up extra preparation time. Because of her, Gil-Galad and Elendil had two years to gather as many forces as they could, and they all made for Imladris.

It was strange seeing Gil-Galad again—I was happy, of course. I had missed him terribly, but at the same time, we were not really in a state of mind to be happy or playful like we usually were. Gil-Galad, Elrond, Glorfindel, Bregedúr, and I would still meet of an afternoon when we could, but to call it Happy Hour would have been absurd. Things were grim, and the terrifying futility of it all hung over all of us in a suffocating way. Still, we knew, though we never said it, that we would rather be together feeling that way than alone.

Three more years of non-stop industry went on as battle plans were laid out in Imladris before we eventually set out. We made our way south, following the Anduin, and picked up the Mirkwood and Lothlórien forces as we went. Some time after that, more Númenórean forces turned up along with a Dwarf army.

Just outside of the Fangorn Forest, we were ambushed by a force Sauron had sent out earlier that had taken out most, if not all of the Entwives dwelling in the region, and that marked the start of years of horrific, bloody battles.

And the losses, my god. They were absolutely catastrophic. In one of the earlier battles, I found out that Oropher had been slain through Bregedúr, who reported it through heavy tears. I hadn't seen much of Oropher since the last phase of Legolas' exposure therapy, but I'd had numerous accounts of how much warmer and friendlier he had become, particularly toward Legolas and Bregedúr.

The Battle of Dagorlad, on the plains that stretched out before Mordor, was the most devastating, both personally and statistically. I had a terrible feeling something was going to go wrong in this battle, and so I stuck particularly close to my four friends to keep an eye on them.

We were outnumbered, but fortunately, we were well equipped and very skilled fighters, so eventually started to overwhelm Sauron's forces, but they came in wave after wave in seemingly endless supply.

We had gotten through about three-quarters of Mordor's forces, still very much in the thick of it, when a particularly large group of Orcs surrounded us on all sides and proceeded to demolish our forces from the outside in. Heavy loss happened on both sides, but it dissipated the outer ring enough that we were able to spread out. I got separated from Glorfindel and Bregedúr in the chaos, but could still see Elrond and Gil-Galad.

Gil-Galad fought exceptionally well. I looked up in time to see him swipe the heads clean off of three Orcs. The coast clear then, he turned around and he looked terrified as he shouted to Elrond, "_Behind you!_"

Elrond reacted in time to save his own skin, and I screamed to Gil-Galad to turn back around when I saw what was coming, but I was too late. Another Orc had come out of nowhere and hacked its filthy sword straight into the back of his head. Elrond and I both watched in silent horror as our dearly loved friend toppled, already dead before he hit the ground.

The dull thud that resulted snapped us out of the stranglehold our shock had had us in. Elrond let out a shout and ran over to him, and I knew he wasn't thinking straight. I felt a wave of panic grip me at the thought of losing another friend, and so followed Elrond, essentially making sure nothing dangerous could get to him. He wasn't going to accept Gil-Galad was dead without making absolutely sure first.

When I had a moment, I went over to Elrond. He was kneeling over Gil-Galad, checking his pulse again and again.

"We need to keep pushing just a little bit longer, El," I said to him gently.

"We cannot just leave him here," Elrond whispered, looking up at me pleadingly.

"Don't worry, he'll be safe here until we finish up," I knelt down and slipped off my cape, draping it over Gil-Galad like a blanket, and then tenderly closed his eyes.

"There we go," I said. "He'll be fine like this until we can come back."

Elrond didn't have time to decide whether or not to continue kneeling, because the final wave of enemies were coming for us. Together, we jumped up and shot into the masses again.

Some time later, the war finally drew to a close, the forces of Mordor having been totally obliterated, and our own not far off it. I found Glorfindel and Bregedúr still alive, and took them back with me to where Gil-Galad was. The four of us used our capes to bear our buddy to somewhere that he could be buried with the dignity he deserved. Glorfindel and Bregedúr sobbed the whole walk back. Elrond and I went without a sound, dry-eyed and hollow.

In preparation for the funeral, Elrond had taken it upon himself to wash and prepare Gil-Galad's body. The meticulousness Elrond was known for showed in how carefully and gently he attended to his friend, every now and again still checking for a pulse as he went.

The funeral itself was painful, with gut-wrenchingly sad songs and lamentations that went on until after Gil-Galad had been placed into the grave and it was filled. Hardly anyone was there- only a handful of people besides the four of us, though most of the people who would have attended such a funeral lay dead in the field we brought him back from.

The ride back to Imladris seemed to take forever. The four of us rode abreast, and I could count on both hands the number of words we said each day.

We barely slept, seldom ate, and never smiled. It was a living nightmare.

When we eventually arrived home, we stood in the corridor for a moment, not quite knowing what to do with ourselves. The majority of the residents had either been killed in the wars, or were spouses who died of grief shortly after, so it felt like we had come back to a ghost town.

I had to really stir my brain to think of anything, and eventually said, "Let's go to the music room for a little bit."

The others looked at me blankly and nodded. We sat inside the usually busy room by ourselves, huddled together as I strummed on the guitar, and it was there that we slept that night.

The weeks that passed slowly saw things return to some kind of freakish new normal. We started to become used to the once-deafening silence and poverty of inhabitants, taking what little scraps of noise and contact that we could get our hands on.

Bregedúr went to Mirkwood shortly after to offer comfort to Legolas and Thranduil. Elrond became busy again with the usual paperwork and trade deals that had defined much of his career thus far, as did Glorfindel. Me, I re-opened the clinic, albeit with fewer hours. Not that that was much of a problem, given the number of potential clients that were still alive.

Thankfully, new life started to flow in after a while, too. Celebrían came to visit again, which was a relief to all of us, but especially to Elrond. She was especially tender and sweet with him, and for the first time in ages, he finally started to show signs of improving.

Celebrían had started being a little more open with her affections, possibly in the guise of offering sympathy, and he drank it up like medicine. But Elrond was not open back with her, and I had a sneaking feeling that it was starting to hurt Celebrían. She stayed for an entire year, and then departed for Lothlórien, and still nothing had changed between them.

I spent a day or two after Celebrían's departure debating with myself in my office whether or not I should take this up with Elrond, thus blowing my 1700 year cover. In the end, though, I couldn't stand it, and I got up and went to his study, rapping my knuckles smartly on his door.

A voice from inside invited me to enter, which I did. Elrond, who had been writing at his desk, looked up at me and said, "Oh, hello, Rhodri," placidly. "It has been quite a while since we had Happy Hour, hasn't it? Come, let us sit on the balcony with a wine."

I nodded politely and strolled out with him to our familiar spot.

"Is something on your mind, Rhodri?" he asked as he filled my glass with a tipple of something rich and red. "You seem rather preoccupied."

"To be truthful with you, Elrond, I do have something bouncing around in my head," I said, gratefully taking the glass he offered me. "And you know, I think you do, too."

He looked at me, rather confused. "What do you mean?"

I sighed. "Look, I wanted to stay out of this, but we're best friends, and I can't let you make this mistake."

Elrond was now thoroughly bewildered. "The apple trade deal with Gondor? But you said-"

"No, Elrond," I interrupted him gently. "Celebrían."

He froze. "What about Celebrían?"

"Oh, Elrond, darling," I moaned. "I've known you're in love with Celebrían for over 1700 years now."

"I-" was all Elrond could get out. He was redder than his wine now. "Rhodri," he eventually spluttered indignantly, "You are not my psychologist!"

"Of course I'm not!" I snapped back. "We're not paid to do what I'm about to do. Listen, I know you're in love with her, and surely- _surely-_ you must know she feels the same way about you."

"Don't be ridiculous," he thundered. "There is nothing of that nature there."

"What, you think she came all the way from Lothlórien to sit around with Glorfindel, do you?"

"I've had enough of this," Elrond said, and stood up. I got up as well, and with a tiny wave of my hand, the balcony door shut. He turned around and looked at me, outraged.

"You're not going anywhere until we talk this out," I said firmly.

"Let me _go_, Rhodri," he enunciated with forced calm.

"Absolutely not, Elrond. You've had 1700 years to sort this out, and now your window of opportunity is about to close. Sit down."

Elrond went to turn the doorknob and found that the door was locked tightly in place. Now absolutely fraught, he unleashed a string of obscene insults at me before finishing with, "_I TOLD YOU, YOU'RE NOT MY PSYCHOLOGIST_!"

I couldn't remember him ever shouting before. He was seldom angry, but when he was, he never showed it with loudness. This was a sign that it was unlikely to _be_ anger. No, this was fear. He was screaming like a cornered alley cat, and I knew the only way to get through to him now was to deliver a shock.

I grew myself up to a height that made me tower over him, and zipped over to the door scarily quickly.

"You're going to wish I was your psychologist in a fucking minute, mate," I whispered in a dangerous voice. He stared up at me, still charged enough to lash out if he wanted to, but a little confused. "_SIT DOWN, GOD DAMN YOU!"_ I roared at him.

That did it. He'd never been shouted at before, and I imagine he thought I was one of the more unlikely candidates to ever do so. He was so shaken that he said nothing as he took his hand off the doorknob and shambled back to his seat.

I shrank myself back to my regular self and resumed my spot beside him.

"Elrond, look," I said gently. "Celebrían's wild about you. I know you love her, too. I heard you catch your breath when you first saw her. I've watched you blush when you see her and witnessed your heart hammering while you talk for nearly two millennia now. There can be absolutely no doubt how you both feel."

He said nothing, staring at his knees with a blank expression, but I knew he was listening.

"But you know, mate," I continued, "You've both kept up this sort of platonic facade the entire time, and it's reaching a point where this thing between you two will go one way, or the other. Celebrían's not going to wait forever, because it's hurting her now."

"She should find another, then," Elrond hissed.

"She doesn't want another, Elrond. She wants you," I said simply. "Honey, this is exactly what you want. The first member of that family you've been dreaming of has shown up, and you're moments away from losing them. Why, why would you do this to yourself, Elrond? Why would you do it to her?"

"You've seen how they all go, Rhodri," Elrond cried, looking at me desperately. "They all get taken away at some point or another!"

"Elrond, life is a gamble. Don't think I don't know how you feel. I told you what happened back in London. It hurts, mate, it hurts terribly, but you can't lock yourself away from others and never allow yourself to be happy again! Do you wish you had never met Gil-Galad?"

Elrond looked wounded at my question. "No, of course not," he said shortly, looking at the floor.

"Not for a second. You loved him dearly, and he loved you right back. The pain that came with losing him was worth it all, wasn't it?"

He nodded numbly, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. The dam was about to burst and I knew it, so I had to get the point across before no more information could get in.

"You know, El, Celebrían adores you, and I think you two could have an absolutely exceptional life together that you're not going to regret for a second." I got down on one knee in front of him and put one hand on his. "Let yourself be loved for once, Elrond."

And that was it. The last threads of Elrond's composure snapped, and he started to sob. He must have been holding that in since Gil-Galad died. He was crying so hard that his breath only came in at gasps occurring every thirty seconds. He allowed himself to be gently set on the ground beside me where I could put my arm around him and let him cry into my shoulder. We sat there like that for two hours, long after the dinner bell had rung and the stars had come out.

Eventually, though, like all liquids that are being expended faster than they are being replaced, Elrond ran out of tears. When he dried up enough, I slowly helped him to his feet, and with a snap of my fingers, the door opened and we went inside his study.

"Now, darling friend, what are you going to do with yourself?" I asked him gently.

"I think it might be time for an emergency trip to Lothlórien," he said quietly.

"You know, if you head out now, you might even catch Celebrían on the way," I said with a wink.

"Do you think… should I?" he asked seriously.

"Why waste any more time, mate?" I returned with a shrug.

He nodded, and strode over to the coatrack where his travelling cloak hung and slung it on.

"I'll sort stuff out here, don't worry, you just get a move on," I said, cutting him off just as he pointed to his desk. He smiled and nodded. Just as he went to open the door, I spoke again.

"Oh, Elrond?"

He turned around.

I walked up to him, blushing a little. "I'm really terribly sorry for using such violent, angry tones at you back there."

Elrond giggled, pulled me into a short, tight embrace, and said, "You're a great best friend, Rhodri," before zipping out the door.


	22. Of spaceships and sunshine

I made a note of what paperwork was on Elrond's desk to show to Erestor later on, and then headed out to see if I could scavenge myself some leftovers for dinner.

On my way there, I was almost wiped out by an incredibly speedy Glorfindel, who knocked into me like an oncoming car. I stumbled a little but Glorfindel grabbed me by the shoulders and steadied me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Rhodri," he began, "but thank goodness I've found you!"

"Is something the matter?" I asked him.

"Well, Elrond just sprinted past me to the stables, and when I asked him where he was going, he told me to speak to you."

"Ah, yes," I said with a nod. "Come with me to get some food, and then let's find somewhere quiet to talk, yes?"

This seemed acceptable to Glorfindel, who nodded, and together we scuttled to the dining rooms before the serving platters could be cleared away. After piling a plate with bread and vegetables, we made our way up to the observation deck, which seldom had any visitors these days, and I filled him in on the afternoon's events, withholding only the things I thought might embarrass Elrond.

"So… so he's riding out now to tell Celebrían how he feels?" Glorfindel asked, eyes wide with excitement.

I smiled and nodded.

"Praise the Valar, at long last, he is finally being sensible!" Glorfindel rejoiced with a laugh, throwing a victorious fist in the air and drumming his feet on the floor.

"Took him long enough," I said, shaking my head through a mouthful of bread. "I thought the world was going to end up flat again before he did anything about it."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows momentarily in agreement.

"Still, he only has to do it once, and in a day or two it will be out of the way," he pointed out, grabbing a cherry tomato off my plate and throwing it into the air before catching it in his mouth.

"That's true," I admitted with a laugh. "What are we going to do with that free space in our brains now instead of worrying about Elrond, I wonder?"

"Mmm," Glorfindel murmured as he sat down and leaned back on his hands, looking up into the night sky. "I suppose quite a bit will change, now."

"For the better, I think," I said with a small smile as I joined him on the floor. "The Bib-and-Brace Club will now have all members resident in Imladris, after all. Things can only go up from here."

He smiled back gently. "I am sure they will." He let out a long sigh after that. I couldn't help but draw a slightly deeper breath in sympathy. It had been almost a year and a half since we had lost Gil-Galad. Though most of the time now we coped very well, tiny, quiet moments like this were still prime opportunities for our composure to unravel as the ache crept back in.

Glorfindel brushed a tear away and said quietly, "I think he would have loved to see Elrond's wedding."

I nodded as my throat seized up a little. "He'd have been so proud… I think he would have offered to be the one to give Celebrían her jewel."

"And then he would have two people to worry about and fuss over," Glorfindel added.

"Oh god, don't say that," I said with a theatrical groan. "I already lost half a glass of wine when I heard people thought Gil-Galad and I were going to get married. And he was only coming in to wring his hands over Elrond then. Imagine him panicking over Elrond and Celebrían."

I shook my head. "Let's just save the news for when we see him in Valinor."

Glorfindel cackled at that and nodded. "Yes, for your sake, that's probably best."

We spent the rest of the evening lying on the floor in the incredibly warm night air- the first hot night of the year, in fact- making up ridiculous stories about whatever constellations we could find, and agreed that this was far superior to completing the paperwork that both of us should have been doing.

When the sun came up, I decided I could no longer put off the blotter-jotter life and made my way to my office. The air was thick and hot, filled with motes of various seeds and spores floating around, seeking some patch of fertile ground to settle on. The flowers waved in the breeze, and the leaves rustled gently in synchrony. Summer was my favourite time of the year, and I sighed contentedly as I turned the corner to the corridor where the clinic was.

I was startled to see an Elf with jet-black hair whom I recognised as one of the chefs. She and I would shoot the breeze now and again whenever I delivered harvested vegetables or stuck my nose in when a delicious, wafting smell lured me to her place of work. She stood outside the office, looking terrified and breathless.

"Singlis?" I called as I ran over to her. "My god, what is it?"

"Rhodri, thank goodness I found you," she began as she grabbed my hands. "I tried to find Lord Elrond, but he is not here, and neither is Lord Glorfindel. I—"

She stopped speaking and burst into tears as she threw her arms around me. I could feel her quivering with fright as she sobbed onto my shoulder. It seemed I had become a very in vogue person to cry on of late, I mused to myself as I pat her back and waited for her to calm down a bit.

"What happened, Singlis?" I asked gently. "Tell me."

"I—I was abducted," she whispered to me.

My eyes widened. This was a serious emergency.

"Who took you? Where are they now? How many were there?" I demanded.

"I d-don't know, maybe five of them," she stammered, still incredibly shaken up.

"Right. There's no time to lose. Let me get my sword, and I want you to take me to where you last saw them."

I ran past her into my office and grabbed a sword I had sitting on a rack on the wall, and then we dashed down the valley together to a little clearing a short way from the path. It was a beautiful area, nestled away from most of the other households of Imladris. Singlis and her family of six lived in the smallish house there that she and her husband had made by hand, and they were known for being proud of their largely self-sufficient lifestyle. Their patch of land contained their own quite sizable vegetable garden, a well, and even a chicken coop that Singlis had constructed herself. In all, it really was an impressive feat.

Singlis gestured that her would-be kidnappers were somewhere near the property, and I drew my sword, bracing myself for attack.

We crept into the yard and found nothing. Nobody was around. After quickly checking the house and finding no-one there (the remaining family members excepted), I locked the doors and ordered Singlis and her family to stay inside until I came back. After a scout around, doing everything I could to lure any potential abductors out, I went back to their house without any hostile activity to report at all.

I knocked on the door.

"Singlis," I called out. "There's nobody around. Can I come in a minute?"

Singlis' husband opened the door and let me in. Singlis was on the sofa with her four children (well, adults, really), who ranged from about 50 to 120 years of age.

"The coast is clear as far as I can see," I repeated to her. I gestured at her husband and children. "Did any of you see anything of this happening?"

They all shook their heads.

"Hmm. Singlis, can we sit somewhere and talk so you can tell me about what happened?" I asked her. She nodded, and looked at her husband.

"I will fix some breakfast for us," he said with a reassuring smile. "Come," he said, motioning for their children to follow him.

Singlis took me upstairs to a small reading room and shut the door.

"Tell me about what happened in your own time," I requested.

She took a deep breath and started to speak.

"I was lying in bed asleep, and then out of nowhere, a giant thing appeared. It was huge, like a house and a ship put together, but it could fly."

I almost did a double-take. A flying-? Surely she didn't mean…

"Then what happened?"

"Well, a door opened and came down onto the floor, and these five creatures came out—like Orcs, but smoother and with bigger heads. They pulled me out of bed and dragged me up into their house and locked the door!"

My god. She was talking about an alien abduction. I had had quite a few clients come to me over the years with this. It's amazing how many people genuinely believe they have been abducted by aliens, and the number grows every year.

Before I could stop her, she continued. "They took out measuring sticks and examined my head and hands, and then tied me to a rack so they could see how tall I was. I was screaming, absolutely terrified, and they tried to poke me with something sharp, but I just screamed louder, so they stopped. After a while, they gave up and dropped me back in my bed."

"I see," I said after a moment. I wondered if it was possible that alien abductions could happen here in Middle-Earth. On regular Earth, it was considered completely implausible by most research, so I was unsure how to proceed. I eventually decided to see if she was in touch with reality, and that if I couldn't get a straight answer out of her, I would have to ask her husband to help me get her up to my office so that he could sign a confidentiality form on her behalf.

"Tell me, Singlis, are you quite sure this wasn't a dream?"

Singlis nodded vigorously. "Oh, absolutely. I was awakened by the noise of the house ship as it entered our bedroom, and I haven't fallen back asleep since they released me an hour ago."

"Do you know where we are right now?"

Singlis looked at me with confusion. "Yes," she said slowly. "We are in my house, which is in Imladris."

"Just checking. Do you know what year it is?"

She answered correctly, with a face that suggested she thought she'd have to check me in at the hospital wing for a bout of amnesia.

"Okay," I said, tapping my fingers on my lips. "Listen, Singlis, I think I know what might have happened, but I'll need to ask some more questions. Do you think you could come up with me to my office and we can have a talk about confidentiality and—"

My introductory spiel was broken by a piercing scream followed by a loud crash coming from downstairs. We looked at each other in alarm, and raced down as fast as we could.

As we turned the corner, we were greeted with a sight that made a "Good_ lord!"_ escape my lips before I could stop it. The downstairs area had suddenly become incredibly messy. The breakfast table had been flipped over, and food was everywhere. Singlis' husband was crouched down in a corner, looking absolutely terrified as he yelled nonsensically at the top of his lungs. I looked over and saw that their children were scattered through the bottom level. One was sitting at the place where the table had been, carrying out an animated conversation with an invisible entity. Another was standing still, staring at their hands in silent incredulity. The third child was in the kitchen, throwing handful after handful of flour up in the air and letting it rain down on themselves joyfully.

"Where's the fourth…" I murmured as I looked around, before I heard a clattering from outside. I burst out the back door and saw the youngest one climbing up the side of the house, loudly singing about birds and flying. I jumped up and grabbed them by the ankle, pulling them back down the pole until they were on the ground with me.

"Hey, buddy, there's some birds inside that want to talk to you, better come in quick!" I lied through my teeth. This was apparently good enough for the child, though, who allowed me to lead them back indoors.

The place looked like a bomb had hit it now. I locked all the doors and told Singlis to keep an eye on the climber kid as I went to the husband, who was still screaming like a banshee. His hair looked like a sterling silver haystack, and his brown eyes were wide as dinner plates.

"Oldreth! Oldreth, it's Rhodri!" I shouted at him.

He looked up at me in relief, and started begging me to save him. "Please, Rhodri, do something! It's going to kill me in a moment, I just know it!"

"What is, Oldreth?"

He put out a finger shakily and pointed straight in front of him, but then screamed and snapped his hand back to him.

I could scarcely believe my ears. All of them, potentially bar one, were having a psychotic episode. I had to get them out of there, away somewhere safe where they could calm down before anyone got hurt.

"Right," I yelled in my authoritative voice. "Everyone make one straight line at the front door! We are going to go somewhere safe now!"

Oldreth was the first at the door, moving like his arse was on fire. The kids needed to be rounded up, but they were happy enough to go when steered.

I took them out of the house and had two children hold my hand, two hold Singlis' hands, and Oldreth was to walk behind Singlis and with his hands on her shoulders. I walked behind Singlis and we went up to Elrond's house.

When we got there, I ran into Glorfindel, who was walking with Erestor. They looked at me and my rabble in confusion.

"You two," I said to them quietly, "we have a bit of a situation on our hands. We need to get this lot here into a room as empty and lockable as possible. I'll explain later."

They nodded and told me they would run ahead and prepare one of the library reading rooms for us. I slowly guided the family through to the library and into the reading room Glorfindel beckoned us from, which he and Erestor had emptied of all furniture except for a few cushions.

Thankfully, Oldreth was visibly calmer although like his wife was still shaken up. Their children all seemed rather placidly out of it, perfectly content to chatter or stare or wander aimlessly around the room they were all in.

"We need to keep them in this room for today," I said quietly to Erestor and Glorfindel outside the room. "I don't know what's happened, but the six of them have started seeing things that don't exist, and were behaving quite dangerously. I want to monitor them to see if they can calm down enough that they won't hurt themselves or someone else."

Erestor and Glorfindel both looked astonished, but accepted this with a nod.

"Could you two arrange for some bland food and water to be brought up here to them, please, and possibly some blankets in case they need to sleep there for the night?"

With another nod, they both disappeared. I went back into the room. At least the atmosphere was less scream-y, but Oldreth and Singlis were worried as ever.

Singlis calmed down fairly quickly after that, but things didn't start to properly turn around for the rest until about nine hours later, when at last, the kids started talking with each other coherently, and Oldreth was relaxed.

That so many had calmed down at the same time made me think that this was drug-induced, but I had been in Middle-Earth quite a while, and so far as I knew, there were no recreational hallucinogens around. I asked them, to be sure, but they claimed not to have taken anything. Elves aren't inclined to lie, and I wasn't inclined to doubt that either Singlis or Oldreth were serial killers seeking to drug themselves and their offspring into oblivion.

"I'd like you all to stay in this room for now while we have a look around your house for what might have caused this, if you don't mind," I said to them. They agreed happily to that, and I had Erestor sit with them while Glorfindel and I went down to their house in the bright summer night.

"What are we looking for?" Glorfindel asked me as we ran down the sloping path.

"Plants and poisons," I answered. "There has to be something. Let's check the kitchen first.

We went inside and started looking around. Oldreth and the children were perfectly fine when I arrived, so they must have consumed something for breakfast that set them off. And since Singlis had relaxed measurably quite a few hours earlier, she must have had that same thing but the night before.

I went over to the upended dining table, set it back on its legs, and examined the floor.

"Looks like scrambled eggs, butter, bread, jam, and they were drinking water…" I said to Glorfindel. "They make a lot of their own food, so it's probably come from here."

The kitchen had a pot on the stove and beside the sink sat a dirty wine glass and five drinking glasses. I peered into them and saw that four of them had dried-up orange juice pulp in them, and one was clear. Suddenly, it hit me. I grabbed Glorfindel by the arm suddenly, making him jump a little.

"Glorfindel! The well!" I exclaimed, and we ran out the back door. The thing looked pretty inconspicuous- just your average bored well with a cute little tiled roof. The columns supporting the roof were wooden, and had intricate patterned vine carvings in them. Someone had evidently taken great care to make sure the pattern looked the same, because as I flicked my eyes from one to the other, I couldn't see an inch of difference, except-

"Here," I said, tracing my finger down to a small, dead-looking woody vine that had snaked its way from the roof down and into the well. Glorfindel and I dragged it back up, and saw that at the very end, the tip had sprouted green and had a single leaf with one spot on it.

Glorfindel let out a gasp. "Oh! It is gwiraph! Lucky that we found it! It would seem that it is only newly blooming."

I frowned. I had not heard of it before.

"It is a vine that makes leaves with one spot each," he explained. "The spot is made of deadly spores. At high enough concentrations, it kills rapidly, but in this instance, I suppose they did not ingest enough for that."

"So, it's a hallucinogen in small doses," I murmured.

That made sense. People claiming they were abducted by aliens were seldom experiencing psychosis. It was usually the result of the brain making what is called a false memory, but in rarer cases, it can also be brought on through drug use. That explained why the entire family reacted when they drank the water, too, but in different ways. But how had this only just happened now?

"How did they not get sick sooner?" I asked Glorfindel.

"Oh, the spores only release in the early evenings during the hot parts of summer. Last night was the first night it would have been hot enough for it."  
He lifted up the vine and examined the length of it. "There are no bumps from where the leaves would have grown out, so it must be a new vine. I would say it started climbing down in the winter and only began to bloom now."

"Ah, so Singlis was the one who drank water last night when the others had wine and juice, and then Oldreth and the children had water this morning when Singlis skipped breakfast!" I groaned, slapping my hand on my head.

"Let's go and ask," said Glorfindel.

I nodded and we bolted back up to test our theory on Singlis and Oldreth. Sure enough, they were able to confirm that after dinner, they sat together with their customary digestifs (and nonalcoholic equivalents), Singlis having opted for water this time around. They had just run out of water in the house, so she went to the well and fetched a large pitcher's worth, from which she drank that night, and the others over breakfast that morning.

We showed them the plant we found around the well, and Singlis and Oldreth looked horrified and clutched their children close to them. It must have been quite a fright for them, having come through wars just gone only to nearly all die because of contaminated groundwater.

"It would seem," I added, "that this tiny dose you got is what accounts for the vivid and occasionally frightening experiences you all had either last night or this morning. Nobody became a bird, nobody was at risk of being attacked by the table, nobody was abducted and experimented on. Everybody's hands were the right size and shape, and it was not snowing indoors. It was all the plant."

They all giggled, relieved that it was over.

"You'll want to give your well a bit of a clean out before you drink out of it, I think," I said after a moment. "Either that or build a new one now, while the ground's still soft." I shrugged. "Whatever you choose, just don't drink from the well right now."

With a smile and a nod, they all started to get up and made their way out of the room, back to the house where one hell of a cleanup awaited them.

We thanked Erestor, who headed out to continue fretting over Elrond's paperwork, and Glorfindel and I replaced the furniture in the reading room.

"We've done awfully well, haven't we?" Glorfindel said happily after we put the last chairs back. He clapped a hand on my shoulder.

"Not bad for a day's work, is it?" I replied with a grin. "We make a good team, you and me!"

He beamed at me and nodded, his cheeks getting a hint of colour in them.

"Come on," he said after a moment. "Let's get something to eat and drink, and go and make some music. What say you?"

"'Anything but water' is what I bloody say," I raised my eyebrows for a moment. "Lead the way, sunshine!"

Psych Notes

False memories and alien abduction

The psychology behind claims of alien abduction has attracted quite a lot of attention from researchers recently. It might seem strange to think that that sort of thing can be transplanted to Middle-Earth, but as a matter of fact, alien abduction claims have featured in cultures from all over the world, and abductions by various mystical creatures has been the basis of a vast body of folklore. I'll grant you, the spaceship is a bit more of a modern invention, but unidentified flying objects have been a phenomenon popping up again and again through history. Plus, I would presume that when you're high as a kite like Singlis was, dreaming up a flying houseboat was probably well within her scope of fantasy.

As I stated earlier, most of the time, claims of alien abduction tend not to arise from episodes of psychosis, or even result from mental illness. Naturally, most of us think the idea of being kidnapped by extraterrestrial beings in a spaceship and being subjected to traumatic experimentation before being returned to earth is quite implausible. We therefore need an explanation as to why anyone would truly believe such an unrealistic thing.

Presently, the research leans most heavily toward the concept of false memories as that explanation. A false memory occurs when we recall a false or distorted event without knowing it is such. We experience them very often, usually without repercussion. Our brains do not record details like computers; they are dynamic, economical repositories that rely on context, relevance, and past experiences when it comes to processing information and events. Relative to the amount of stuff we do recall correctly, false memories are a drop in the bucket.

False memories probably happen because the brain messed up and thought something happening inside your head (e.g. internal monologue, imagination) was actually happening outside in the physical world, known also as a source monitoring error. Other theories exist, but are much less plausible than the proposal of source monitoring errors.


	23. In which Elrond FINALLY marries

Do excuse the delays to comments you good lot! I only just realised I can reply to comments here. -Cue the I'm Such A Jim theme tune-

earthdragon: oh, it's better to be at the pools when it's raining because then it makes it easier to go down the waterslides! They seemed not to have the plumbing set up so that a steady supply was fed up to the top of the waterslides, so the rain was very much welcomed whenever it showed up. Oh, and you're absolutely right. Gil-Galad is a master strategist. As is Elrond. Rhodri is better at rolling with the punches, which doesn't serve her especially well at such games. They wouldn't stand a chance against her in a game of snap, though :D

FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff: haha I spend a solid few minutes thinking up ridiculous names for my chapters! Thanks for noticing! X)

Pineapple-Pancake: Yeah, I did see that very watercolour you were talking about. Really made Imladris seem like the token one-year town hey, but what a horse!

Elrond didn't come back to Rivendell for just over 100 years. It seemed like an age at the time, but then when I thought about it, there would have been more than 1700 years' worth of romantic feelings to unpack. That suddenly made it all a bit more reasonable, to the extent that I was actually rather surprised when he did return.

I was sitting and eating breakfast with Glorfindel and Bregedúr, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts, when the noise of a hand slamming the table jerked me back to the present. I looked up and saw Bregedúr looking intently at the window behind me.

"He's back," she said.

We looked at each other and abandoned our food, bolting out and down the corridor. When we turned the corner, there was Elrond, standing alone and waiting for us contentedly.

I let out a roar of delight and we ran over to him.

Still surprised to see him back, I said without thinking, "Elrond! What on earth are you doing here?"

He arched an eyebrow at me and said with a wry smile, "Well, Rhodri, I do usually live here."

He looked the healthiest I had ever seen him, positively aglow with vitality and happiness. I beamed at Elrond and snapped him up in a bone-crushing hug before setting him back down again.

After shooting the breeze for a spell, Elrond bade the three of us to accompany him to his office to fill him in on the last while.

"And what about you, Elrond?" I asked him after we had finished narrating the hip happenings in Imladris.

Elrond said nothing, instead resting his head in his hand and smiling. After we stared at him expectantly, he started tapping his face quite obviously with his index finger, and then we noticed a small, silver band sitting on it.

"You're betrothed" I gasped, my eyes nearly falling out of my head.

Glorfindel let out a thrilled shriek and reacted so intensely he fell off his seat, and Bregedúr pumped her fist in the air, shouting, "Yes!"

For the next five minutes, everyone spoke, though I doubt any real words were said. Any unfortunate passers-by would have thought the noise was a rabble of excited monkeys who had just inherited a banana plantation.

Eventually, we managed to glean that the wedding would take place in a few years here in Imladris, after which Celebrían would come to live here. Perfect. The Bib-and-Braces Club could yet see a revival. Elrond was happy. Everything seemed to be coming together just right.

Glorfindel and Bregedúr headed out after a little bit to run some errands, leaving me alone with Elrond. It was like Happy Hour, but earlier in the day. At that point, though, after having been without it for so long, I was perfectly content to take it at any time.

We sat in a happy, companionable silence for a little bit, no doubt enjoying the good news, but tied to the good news was this sense of concern for Elrond's welfare. I inwardly shook my fist at Gil-Galad, certain that he had transferred his worries to me before his spirit departed for Mandos' halls.

"Elrond, could I ask you something?" I eventually broached, quickly adding, "as a friend, not as a psychologist."

Elrond laughed a little and invited me to proceed, watching me with interest.

"How are you going?"

He leaned back in his chair easily and a content smile spread across his face as he considered my answer. No knitted brow, no pursed lips.

"I am well, Rhodri. Happy. Things are better than I could have imagined."

"Are you anxious?"

"A little nervous for the wedding, perhaps, but that is reasonable. I think once Celebrían is here, things will settle down."

"So you mean you aren't being kept busy worrying over her or anything like that?"

His smile hadn't disappeared the entire time. He shook his head gently. "Nothing like that," Elrond replied, and I knew it was genuine.

"You look so… fulfilled, Elrond," I said, my heart swelling as I looked at my best friend lounging in his seat like a big, lazy cat, contented and purring away in the morning sun. Gentle, compassionate, unselfish Elrond, finally on the way to being truly happy. "You deserve this so much."

He reached out and gave my arm a squeeze. There was nothing else to say. This had to be about as close to living the dream as it came.

The time leading up to the wedding sped by, and before I could turn around and utter a shocked expletive, the day itself had arrived. People had travelled from all over to celebrate the day, and I don't think it really had hit home for Elrond just how many people thought so highly of him until they all arrived in Imladris in their droves and we had to find room for them all.

The festivities were splendid. Glorfindel had ended up assuming the role of the bridegroom's father, and he and Galadriel (being the mother of the bride) joined the couple's hands and blessed them. He also presented Celebrían with the customary jewel given from the bridegroom's father to the bride- a green emerald set on a chain. Galadriel, in her equivalent role, gave Elrond a similar chain, but in it was set a blue sapphire, and they were declared married.

And that was it. Elrond and Celebrían were hitched. Well, at least for our purposes. They would have to sort the rest out between themselves.

The celebrations continued well into the small hours of the morning, and only seemed to reach some sort of conclusion because people fell asleep.

Until that point, though, it had to be the most joyous event I had ever attended. Everybody was in a chipper mood, nobody was drunk and disorderly, though the wine flowed quite impressively. Bregedúr danced until she sat down, upon which she fell asleep on my shoulder. To date, I don't think I've ever seen Glorfindel consume so much cake in one sitting. People were almost delirious with joy.

In the days and weeks following the festivities, the guests slowly trickled back out again, and life started to adjust to a delightful new normal. It heralded the happiest times Imladris had ever known, I think. Happy Hour now meant a walk and wine with Elrond and Celebrían, and Glorfindel had started to join in as well. Bregedúr became engaged to Legolas the year after, and Elrond appointed her as the delegation to Mirkwood, so she divided her time between the two places fairly evenly.

The clinic ended up becoming mostly a place for people to swing by and have a chat, rather than be treated for any cognitive, emotional, or behavioural problems. You could tell the happiness was everywhere.

And then, shortly after that, said happiness grew again when Elrond and Celebrían welcomed their first children- identical twins with thick crops of black hair and eyes like liquid silver, and then another child with the same features a while after. Bregedúr and I were appointed as aunties, a role which we both relished, and Glorfindel and Legolas (Bregedúr's now-spouse) were delighted uncles.

In spite of all the joy, though, there were always notes of tension in the background. Most of the time the happiness drowned it out, but it played on my mind. Sauron still had his mind fixed on his Ring, and I knew the joy here could not last.

It did for quite a while, though- some 995 years, at least. Better than a poke in the eye, I guess. After that, talks slowly started to bubble up about that Ring again, and it became apparent that we were going to have to start thinking about the situation at hand, and maybe start making preparations.

And in fact, it seemed that preparations were already under way, as I found out from Glorfindel one sunny afternoon in June.

"Rhodri," he said to me over a game of checkers, "do you want to come with me to Mithlond?"

"When have I ever said no to an adventure with you?" I asked with a smile. "What's happening over there?"

"An old friend is due to arrive from Valinor," he explained. "Olórin, his name is. I understand he will be on a mission along with four other Maiar to assist in the struggle against Sauron, though I do not know their plan."

I raised my eyebrows. I go two and a half thousand years without seeing any of my own kind, and then they suddenly arrive en masse? Incredible.

"Count me in," I said keenly, giving him a thumbs-up. "When are we off?"

"Tomorrow." He jumped my remaining two checkers and took them off the board. "And that's game over."

"Damn it to buggery."


	24. Extreme-age dirtbag

**Author's note: **Part of this chapter will touch on some behaviour that may or may not bring to mind symptoms of Cluster B personality disorders (specifically narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) and antisocial personality disorder (ASPD)- or, perhaps, concepts thrown around such as psychopathy and sociopathy). While I won't be describing these in **Psych Notes** this time, I feel it is very important to highlight that there is significant abuse thrown at people with Cluster B personality disorders (and often extends to most personality disorders in general, though it seems particularly malignant in Cluster B). Though people with ASPD and NPD almost never fully recover, with help, many are able to gain a level of insight that sees improvements in behaviour and cognition. Unfortunately, though, social stigma often causes great hindrance in the process. These disorders do not automatically create abusive people, and it is certainly not the case that all abusive people have one or both of the above disorders. Please don't hesitate to let me know if you would like more information about these, or other personality disorders, and I'll happily stick them in the next chapter's **Psych Notes**.

We were in no immense rush to reach the Grey Havens, so Glorfindel and I decided to make a road trip out of our journey west. We travelled light, only taking the bare necessities, such as a hammock for trampolining and a guitar for music making.

As I had imagined, both were very necessary, but not quite in their originally intended uses. It rained for the entire first half of the journey. Absolutely bucketed down. The hammock, joyfully, was a terrific makeshift roof that we coated with leaves to keep us at least somewhat dry of a night.

Naturally, our spirits were not lessened by the inclement weather. Indeed, we admitted to frequently feeling smug, because we had decided to walk there and not take the horses, and this sort of weather would have made for less than desirable conditions on their part. Not just that, but because we had set out in summer, it wasn't cold rain, which was always a bonus. Really, it was like a free shower.

"Hey, sunshine, tell me a little bit about Olórin," I said to Glorfindel as we squelched our way across a huge field, both of us wringing wet.

"Oh, he's lovely," he said with a smile. "In Valinor, he and I would roam the land together. He never was content to stay in one place for very long."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

"Hmm," Glorfindel pondered as he thoughtfully swept some wet hair off his face. "I imagine it is because of how he started out. He was Manwë's Maia, you see, but he lived in Irmo's gardens and was taught by Nienna, so he had been travelling all his life."

"That's quite a spread out sort of way to be," I remarked with a nod.

"Well, he could have simply transported himself there faster than light, but he preferred to go around by foot. I don't think it ever bothered him, though, not even in the beginning," Glorfindel commented. "He was always very eager, quite a fiery personality, so if he ever was displeased, we knew about it." He laughed a little.

"But he was always good-natured, never the type to hold a grudge or seek power," Glorfindel added. "I think you'll like him."

"I trust your judgement," I replied with a grin. "Your taste in friends has already shown itself to be very good."

Glorfindel giggled and rolled his eyes. "Do you know who your Vala is?"

I fell silent. It was rather embarrassing to admit, but I had put extraordinarily little effort into learning about my own race. I'd picked up what I thought was enough to function, but this question made me realise I was woefully ignorant on even the basics.

"I don't, actually," I said with a frown. "That might be interesting to find out one of these days. I hope I wasn't sent here with a specific mission or something. If I was, I never heard about it."

This put us into a contemplative silence for a short while- or at least as close as it got to silence when the rain was pouring so hard it made white noise. Eventually, though, my questions started again.

"What about the other four Maiar that are supposed to be on this mission, too, then?"

"Ah, I know far less about the others," he admitted. "Curumo will be attending, too, I believe. He was another main Maia to the Vala Aulë. I saw him a few times, but he always seemed uninterested in having much to do with the Elves, so our communications were rather limited."

"Hm," I murmured. "Let's hope he turns out a little better than Aulë's other big headliner. I think one Sauron is more than enough for now." I gulped. Glorfindel nodded in agreement, and continued.

"Aiwendil is another one. He served… let me see… Yavanna, I think it was. I only spoke with him once, but he was friendly. Loved animals of all sizes and types- better than he liked people, even, so I imagine Yavanna was well pleased with him. The other two I know only by name- Alatar and Pallando. They always seemed to be together. Perhaps they were good friends. That's about all I can really tell you, I'm afraid." Glorfindel shrugged.

I shrugged back. "Hey, I know more now than when we started out. It's all handy. Thank you muchly!" I shot Glorfindel a wink and a thumbs-up.

Not a few minutes after our conversation had tapered off, the weather did a complete about-turn. The rain suddenly stopped, and the clouds were punctured by rays of sunshine shortly after. There were even patches of blue around. We could scarcely believe it.

I was so excited to see the sunshine that I started jumping around like a dog.  
"Yessss! A little summer sun at last! Glorfindel!" I grabbed him by the arm and pointed at a huge, black rock on top of a nearby hill. It was one of the rare beneficiaries of direct sunlight, and I knew it was where I wanted to be. "Let's get onto that rock and dry off!"

Glorfindel seemed to be equally taken with the idea, and we waddle-ran like ducks through the mud to get up the hill. The rock was already dry by the time we reached it. We both let out a contented sigh after we had climbed up sprawled out on it, soaking up the delicious heat of the sunrays.

As I dried off a little, I sat up and reached for the guitar. This was the perfect moment for a celebratory song. It was an old one I remembered hearing thousands of years ago on the radio. Hum along if you know the tune.

_"Sunny, yesterday my life was filled with rain,_  
_Sunny, you smiled at me and really eased the pain,_  
_Now the dark days are gone and the bright days are here,_  
_My sunny one shines so sincere,_  
_Sunny, one so true, I love you"_

I'd gone through the rest of the song before I even looked away from the sky in the distance. I turned and saw Glorfindel still lying down, smiling dreamily at me. My face (figuratively, thank goodness) caught fire. I felt my heart skip a beat. An arrhythmia in a Maia? That was odd, but I decided to ignore it. I shook my head.

"A penny for your thoughts, my sunsh-" I stopped in the middle of my own sentence. What a bizarre Freudian slip. I get calling someone sunshine after that, but _my_ sunshine? Glorfindel's cheeks grew pink and his smile broadened as he sat up. I caught his eyes, and they seemed to almost… sparkle? My heart rate shot through the roof, and a smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. What on earth?

In the moment after I made that brief mistake, I racked my brains for an answer as to what was going on here. Glorfindel and I had always been close, to be sure. Practically inseparable at times. But hadn't it always been platonic? Very, very tender and affectionate, certainly, but still.

I was going to shake it off and suggest we kept walking, but as I made to slide off the rock, Glorfindel spoke up from behind me.

"I don't know if this helps, Rhodri, but I was so thrilled the day you told me you weren't interested in Gil-Galad."

My stomach dropped, and I heard my breath catch. It was that same noise I'd heard Elrond make when he saw Celebrían the first time. Holy shit. Two and some millennia pass and I'm suddenly falling hard for my best friend. This was wild.

I turned around, eyes about to fall out of my head, and saw Glorfindel sitting up and smiling at me tenderly, his cheeks now properly aglow.

My heart was hammering now, and if we had had access to modern surgery, I'd have had someone over to remove my stomach from up in my throat.

I seemed to lose control of my body as I silently moved back closer, reached an arm out and put my hand on the rock near his. A terrified feeling was creeping over me that I might somehow have misunderstood, misread the situation, but he shifted his fingers so that they gently stroked mine. The blood throbbed in my ears so hard I thought I was about to haemorrhage, but I miraculously remained alive as I tried my luck a little further and moved my hand a little more over his.

I was numb with fear as I waited for his reaction, but his fingers curled around mine, and I relished it like eating food after starving for days. After I set the guitar down beside me, I faced Glorfindel, and he was looking at me like he was about to cry.

Shocked and anxious to comfort him, I moved close to him and hesitantly put my free arm under his, watching him closely for any sign of objection as I carefully pulled him to me.

To my continued relief, he returned the gesture, letting my hand go as he slipped both arms around me.  
"_Rhodri…_" he whispered, gently holding my head with one hand and pressing on my back with the other.

That undid me. My other arm shot around him and I ripped him close to me, feeling his heart pound as hard as mine. I pressed my cheek against his, fully intoxicated by him as I breathed in his characteristic scent- sunlight, wood, and leaves. Nothing about him had changed. I'd known how his embraces felt, what he smelled like, how he smiled at me, for ages. They were things I had always appreciated, but now mixed in with that appreciation was the unreasonable, irrepressible desire to have them for myself, to admire them closely and adore them intimately.

I moved away for a moment and watched him, trying to think of what splendid thing I could say to both gauge how he felt and to sweep him off his feet, but my fear continued to choke me. I put a hand on his cheek, trying to maintain composure. He held my hand against his cheek with his own free hand, and then moved it to his mouth, where he put a kiss in the middle of my palm.

"Rhodri," he said softly as he rubbed my hand with his thumb, "I've loved you ever since the day I stopped by your office to introduce myself. Do… do you think you might ever return that feeling?"

I think in the last five minutes of conversation, I'd made more noises of disbelief and astonishment than I had over the course of the last century. I was getting absolutely blindsided- and not just by Glorfindel, either. This array of new feelings had hit me like a rogue wave.

I couldn't believe what I was doing, but it was happening so reflexively that I couldn't have stopped it even if I wanted to, which I certainly didn't. "I believe I already do," I breathed, nodding, feeling a smile threaten to split my face open.

Glorfindel's breath caught this time, and he leaned forward, cupping my face in one hand.

"If you'll have me," he whispered hoarsely as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, "I'll care for you and love you and give you everything your heart desires. A million trampolines, overalls of every colour. Whatever you wish."

He searched my face, watching me closely as he awaited my response.

I felt myself lean toward him, until our foreheads were touching. His eyes were absorbingly blue, and the longer I looked, the harder it was not to speak. "My Glorfindel," I murmured as I stroked his cheek with my thumb. "I will. Have me, too?"

A sort of ecstatic laugh came out of Glorfindel as he nodded animatedly. "Oh yes," he said, his voice returning to its usual, clear timbre. His eyes shone like diamonds as he edged his face a little closer to mine until our noses were touching.

"My Glorfindel," I whispered again, scarcely able to believe it.

"My Rhodri," he murmured back. His warm breath hit me, and before I realised what I was doing, I had leaned into him and brushed my lips against his. His eyes fluttered shut as he gently pressed his mouth against mine, and the kiss slowly grew more intense, more demanding, and more excited.

When we eventually came up for air, we lay back down on the rock in the sun, only this time, my head was on Glorfindel's chest and our arms were fastened around each other. We stayed that way the rest of the afternoon and slept that way overnight, shifting only slightly to prevent pressure sores.

The remainder of our journey to the Grey Havens went without a hitch and in much the same manner as the first half had (with the exceptions of more hand-holding and the other emetic things new couples do).

I hadn't ever travelled this far west before, so I was rather excited to see what this part of Gil-Galad's kingdom looked like. I'd had a rather curious idea that Mithlond was a sleepy fishing village with a couple of industrial-sized ports. A haven, you know? The sort of thing that's not really known for being built up.

Fortunately, this was not the first time I had been wrong about things, so I was perfectly aware of how it was to eat my own words. The first glimpse I had was from a fair way away. Huge, white wooden houses with carved spires on top formed a sort of horseshoe shape around the large ports (I was at least right about those). They looked like something out of a fairytale.

When we reached the edge of the city, we were greeted by Elves passing by. They did not know us, but they were pleased to see us all the same as they walked with purpose to their destination, all clad in flowing white robes.

Glorfindel and I went out to the docks, where an enormously muscular, tanned Elf with silver hair and a matching beard stood holding a wooden mallet the size of a baby. He was effortlessly knocking a colossal nail into place when Glorfindel shouted out, "Círdan!" and waved at him.

Círdan looked up and when he saw who had called to him, his face broke out in a huge smile, and he strolled over to us, the mallet casually dangling in his hand like it was made of styrofoam. The shine in his amethyst eyes danced like the afternoon sunlight on the water.

"Well hello there, Glorfindel!" he said heartily as he embraced his friend. "Wonderful to see you again." He turned to me. "I don't believe we've met…?"

"Not that I can recall," I replied with a smile. "I am Rhodri of Imadris."

"Ah, pleasure to meet you! You must be the psychologist Elrond spoke of," Círdan said with a nod.

"And you'll be the shipwright," I replied with a smile, returning his nod. "Nice to put a face to the name at last."

Círdan smiled affably. "Indeed. Well, you two have absolutely impeccable timing. That ship out there, I believe, is the one bearing the Istari." He pointed at a boat out on the glassy water that couldn't have been more than ten minutes away from us. Some other Elves were preparing a dock for the boat to moor at.

Círdan excused himself a moment to down tools, and then we made our way over to the dock to greet our (other) new arrivals.

I wasn't entirely sure what I had been expecting to see, because I had seen depictions of Gandalf and Saruman in cinema, and I knew they were old men, but the five guys that stepped off the boat looked like they should have passed away ten years ago. They were _dangerously_ old. Still, I supposed average consumer confidence wouldn't be too high in wizards who looked like young, spry supermodels, what with the whole looks versus books adage being what it was.

Glorfindel and Círdan smiled broadly as the Maiar walked down the dock. The one in front was clad in white and had long black and white hair. He had his eyes wide open and was inspecting the place with great interest, seemingly forcing himself to tear his gaze off the scenery to look at us. The corners of his mouth were turned up in a smile, but it lacked the characteristic crinkling around the eyes that made it genuine, and it was with this smile that he greeted us.

"Ah, Círdan, Glorfindel," he smiled and nodded.

"Greetings, Curumo," Círdan returned, his own smile only a little more true.

Glorfindel made his greeting fairly brief before moving on to the second in line, who bore a striking resemblance to a destitute Albus Dumbledore. He had long, grey hair with a beard to match, and his cloak was long, grey, and in tatters. This one seemed quite nervous, and looked like there was nothing he would rather do than get back on the boat and sod off home. A wave of reassurance came over his face when he saw Glorfindel striding over to him, beaming as he said, "Welcome, Olórin!"

"Glorfindel!" he gasped in relief as he allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. He smiled at Glorfindel—a real smile—as he pat him on the arm happily.

Third in line was Aiwendil, who seemed to have gone all-out on the colour brown- hair and beard? Check. Robes? Check. Eyes? Check check. Verifiable nature boy. I could tell it was him because he seemed rather indifferent about the whole situation until he caught sight of a huge seagull strolling around on the dock. At this point, he suddenly became very animated, and Aiwendil bent down and picked it up like it was a pet chicken, where it sat placidly in his arms until the others had finished talking.

The other two, who looked like ancient twins clad in matching blue robes, were (unlike their clothing) rather nondescript sorts. They looked around from time to time, but I had a feeling they were the sorts who would show up to parties out of obligation and then sneak out at the earliest opportunity. Nice enough, but not really into it.

We all decided to make our way up to Círdan's house (which looked more like a mansion and functioned more like a hotel), Glorfindel and Círdan leading the way with Olórin. I was a short ways behind because I had intended to speak to Aiwendil about the possibilities of keeping a seagull as a riverine pet (I had been bugging Elrond to let me keep a pet in my room for ages to no avail).

Before I could drop far back enough to start talking with him, though, I started hearing words in a intimately familiar language that I had never spoken before. It was Valarin, the language of the Valar and the Maiar. I kept my gaze out on the ships, away from the others, and kept listening.

_"Aiwendil, cease your foolish interactions with animals. You are diminishing our presence here!"_

_"What does it matter, Curumo? We are not here to try to match Sauron's power, and are not forbidden from enjoying ourselves. Manwë only asked us to play our part in helping the peoples here!"_

I heard a noise of disgust come from Curumo. I looked around and raised my eyebrows at him. He met my eyes and with another feigned smile, he said, "Do excuse me. I am a little unwell after the long trip." He had no idea I had picked up on anything except the noise.

I played along, nodding. "Oh, my, yes it has been a long trip. Perhaps some wine will calm your stomach."

Curumo gave me the sort of unctuous, falsely grateful look that would have made a horse start to retch, and for the safety of my own stomach, I shot him a tiny, quick smile and looked away.

People who are unscrupulously power-hungry have funny ways of distinguishing themselves outwardly. They are usually charming and can construct an excellent presence when around powerful people. In those brief moments that they are left alone with those with less power, though, the mask falls right off. I had a bad feeling about Curumo, and wasn't sure how to proceed.

Dinner followed shortly after, and as we all sat at the table together, things seemed to go as I had anticipated they would. Curumo subtly dominated the conversation, the other would-be participants only getting their piece in with difficulty, Aiwendil was absorbed in trying to train a hermit crab he'd found, and the boys in blue sat there like the Grady twins.

I internally shook my head. Curumo was meant to be the leader of this group of itinerant magicians, but he had absolutely no desire to engage the others at all. I had my doubts that he had much in the way of empathy, but people don't need empathy to understand the wisdom (and benefits to themselves) in good communication and caring leadership that encourages all members to flourish. This guy was just a selfish twit.

There was not a hint of shame in my head as I started twisting song lyrics to insult Saruman while said wizard continued rambling and cutting others off. I'd just made one up I was incredibly proud of (_"He's an extreme-age dirtbag, baby,"_ in case you were curious), when Cirdan asked me if I was all right. Turned out I was smiling like a fool as I mentally pat my back for my lyrical manipulations. The table went quiet and looked at me. I got the impression they had been talking about a rather heavy subject when I zoned out, so I had to cover my bases.

I shrank my smile into a small, apologetic one. "I'm sorry, I got a little distracted," I admitted. "Truth be told (it absolutely was not), I was thinking about how happy I was to finally meet you all. There are some worrisome times ahead, and your presence in Middle-Earth will really bolster our efforts against Sauron."

This seemed to sit well with them, and the conversation continued.


	25. The circus scatters

Thankfully, the conversation (I use that term very loosely here) didn't drag on for too much longer. It ended up becoming rather awkward because Curumo showed subtle signs of jealousy every time Glorfindel or Círdan tried to speak with any of the other Istari.

As a consequence, dinner ended fairly quickly, and the table broke up. Curumo wished to look around the Grey Havens without company, Glorfindel mentioned something about an errand with Círdan, Aiwendil was keen to see what other animals he could find, and the twins just… went.

That left Olórin and me alone. He still seemed nervous, a little homesick almost, so I asked if he would be interested in taking a stroll around the place with me. He smiled shyly and nodded, and with that, we got up and started exploring.

We mainly stuck to the coastline so I could be sure I'd find my way back, and I filled Olórin in on the current happenings and the different peoples in Middle-Earth. He absorbed this information like a sponge, asked a ton of questions, and slowly grew a little more confident by means, I imagined, of the plans he was making.

"I think, if you're up for it, Glorfindel would probably love it if you came with us back to Imladris, the place just east of the Misty Mountains, to meet Lord Elrond. I think you'll like him. He's very knowledgeable about all of the things that happened long before I got here, and has been long involved in action against Sauron's forces. He's also a great rune master, which I don't doubt will be of help to you as you find your way around."

Olórin considered this for a moment and then nodded. "Yes," he said, "that seems wise. I shall do that." He smiled softly. "And what of you, then, Rhodri? You have told me much about Middle-Earth and its inhabitants, but nothing of yourself."

I was in a funny position here. Telling Olórin who I was would make things easier on me, and it would be excellent to have someone to chat with about Maia things. At the same time, though, I could tell that he did not realise there was something up with Curumo, and I was not sure what someone like him would do with that information. Still, my instinct said to trust him.

Checking that we were all alone, I asked him to sit out on one of the docks with me, as far away as we could get from others. He seemed confused by it but agreed all the same.

_"Can you understand me?"_ I asked in Valarin after we had sat down.

Olórin looked shocked, but nodded his head.

_"This must stay between us for now,"_ I said.

_"The others will find out in due course, but only when the time is right."_ I silently congratulated myself on sounding so much more mythical and powerful than I actually was.

Olórin indicated that he had read and accepted the End User Licence Agreement (i.e. he nodded again).

_"When did you come to Middle-Earth?"_ he asked after a moment.

I explained what had happened in London, and his eyes widened.

_"You're Vinyaten,"_ he gasped.

That name was familiar, but I wasn't entirely sure how. I couldn't afford to break character and seem clueless, but I really wanted to know more.

_"How can you be sure of that?"_

Olórin looked at me like I'd just asked him to recite the dictionary backwards.

_"I suppose… well… how strong are you?"_ he asked.

_"Strong by the standards here. I tone it down an awful lot so that I can fit in better, so I haven't tested myself properly, but I haven't felt fatigue from anything I've tried so far."_

Olórin smiled at me smugly. _"Then I'm probably right."_

I arched an eyebrow._ "Oh, yes? Let's hear your logic, then."_

He looked slightly annoyed, but indulged me anyway._ "You started out as Tulkas' Maia, so of course you are strong, but then Irmo loved you for your inquisitiveness and he asked him for you. Tulkas refused because he wanted you to live and train with him, and there was an argument between them, and Manwë took you and gave you back to Iluvatar because neither would compromise. Ilúvatar placed you out of their reach, saying he would return you to Arda when he saw fit. You came here young, from a completely different place, after being away for so long, strong and you are counsellor to the Elves! I proved it infallibly!"_

I was shocked by the information, but I laughed convincingly. _"Calm yourself, Olórin, I said it in jest, but you certainly made a good argument."_

Olórin rolled his eyes. _"I see you laugh in the face of danger just like Tulkas,"_ he said with a wry smile.

_"Danger! Remind me again which of us is the little old man,"_ I retorted, bumping him playfully with my shoulder. _"In any case,"_ I continued, _"Remember to keep this to yourself for now. Tell nobody, not even the other wizards. Don't even use the name Vinyaten. They must only know at the right time, otherwise you will put us all in danger. Do you understand me, Olórin?"_

He nodded fervently, seeming to have taken me and my dramatic excuses awfully seriously. Thank goodness, now I wouldn't have to deal with Curumo being even more of a tiresome, ingratiating prick than he already was.

Olórin and I shot the breeze a good while longer, and now that he knew a little about who I was, he opened up more about his plans to go by foot through the land in his wrinkly disguise, learning more about the peoples of Middle-Earth. Sounded like he had a terrific gap year (or century or two) awaiting him.

We eventually decided we should get up and try to find our way back to the others, but before we did, Olórin asked a favour of me.

_"Rhodri, perhaps you should keep my identity as a Maia to yourself for now, too. I do not want people here to know of it too soon."_

_"That is quite fair. You won't hear a word of it from me."_ I smiled. _"Though the Elves will probably clue in before long, so don't blame me if they find out quickly."_

We swore on it, and then proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes wandering around like lost little ducks, trying to find a trace of any of the other people we had sat at the table with. Well, to be honest, I would have been perfectly content to never run into Curumo or the Matchy-Matchy Boys again, but I definitely wanted to find Glorfindel.

And thankfully, I did.

_"There_ you both are!" Glorfindel called to us from down one of the hallways we'd ended up in. He was walking down the hallway with Círdan.

"Oh, Glorfindel, Círdan, thank heavens you both turned up!" I gasped theatrically. "This strange old man has been following me around for the last few hours trying to sell me various illegal herbs and beard care supplies," I gestured at Olórin, whose mouth fell open.

"Beard care supplies, you say?" Círdan stepped forward, laughing heartily at the Istar's shock. He gently put a hand on Olórin's shoulder before he could get a word of protest out and said, "Allow me to show you the way to your room, sir, and you can inform me of your prices along the way."

Waving goodnight to us, Círdan steered a baffled Olórin off along the way we had just come, leaving Glorfindel and me alone.

"How did things go with your tour together?" Glorfindel asked, slipping a hand easily into mine as we started to stroll in the other direction.

"Quite fine," I answered. "I picked up a few interesting snippets from Olórin just now."

"Oh?"

Once I had checked we were alone (mostly that Curumo was not in the vicinity), I dropped my voice to a whisper and explained everything we had discussed on the dock.

Though the worry that Curumo was close by nagged at me the entire time I relayed the post-dinner events, I managed to get all the information out with little trouble. Glorfindel took it all in with fascination, eyes shining with excitement.

_"Amazing!"_ he enthused. "Most excellent!"

"It's certainly fascinating," I conceded. "It isn't information that helps me do what I do now or will do in the future any better, I don't think, but it's more welcome than a poke in the eye."

Glorfindel rubbed his chin a little. "I imagine its usefulness will become apparent one of these days."

"Let's hope," I answered with a mirthless laugh.

He looked at me closely. "Something troubles you."

"It does," I acknowledged with a heavy sigh. "Listen, what do you think of this Curumo fellow?"

Glorfindel half-shrugged. "He isn't very friendly, and is a rather poor conversationalist. Not the sort of person I would want for a dinner guest."

That was saying a lot for ever-tolerant, carefree Glorfindel. He seemed surprised by his own verdict as well, and was silent for a moment.

"I have a bad feeling about him," I confided in Glorfindel. "I think he's inclined to be power-hungry, and that we should keep a close eye on him."

"Perhaps we should bring him to Imladris with us to meet Elrond as well," Glorfindel suggested. "Just so Elrond knows what he's dealing with."

"If we can convince him to," I replied pensively. "He seems pretty content to just take off on his own, as evidenced tonight."

We chewed over the unease for a short while before I changed the topic in.

"And what about you?" I asked. "Where have you and Círdan been loitering around, then?"

"Ah, yes!" Glorfindel said, holding a finger up like he'd just been reminded of something. "Tell me, Rhodri, are you happy?"

"Oh yes, certainly," I nodded cheerfully. "Life is pretty hard to beat right now. Nice sea breeze, good food, great company. What's not to like?"

Glorfindel smiled. "Wonderful," he replied happily. He paused and looked at me almost shyly. "And, ah, what about with us? As a couple, I mean. Are you happy in that regard?"

I raised an eyebrow and looked around, saying nothing. When I spotted a nearby door that opened out to a balcony, I took a confused Glorfindel by the hand and led him out there, closing the door gently behind me.

He didn't have long to wonder what was going on, though. I stepped over to him, taking his face in one hand and wrapping the other around his waist, and proceeded to give him the most intense kiss I could manage. I felt him melt in my arms and gently return my kiss, moaning just a little as I tightened my grip around him. I tapered off and kept my face in front of his.

"I am euphoric with you," I murmured to him, my lips brushing over his as I spoke. I moved my head away a little to scan his face. "And what of you? Are you happy?"

"Oh yes," he answered breathlessly. "Most definitely." He paused a moment before asking, "Could you see us perhaps, ah, marrying?"

"If you'd have me," I said with a wry smile, "I'd marry you in a heartbeat."

Glorfindel let out a joyful shriek that startled me so much that I would have probably fallen over backwards had it not been for the fact he had scooped me up into a bone-crushing embrace.

"Then let us marry," he declared loudly as he set me back down on the ground. He watched my face, awaiting confirmation.

"Oh yes," I said with a grin, squeezing his hand.

He proceeded to nearly dislocate my shoulder as he threw open the door and tore off down the hallway, still holding onto my hand.

"Glorfindel, where on earth are we going?" I squeaked as I struggled to get my feet to hit the ground and not simply flap about in the air behind him as he continued to bolt.

"The jeweller's!" Glorfindel shouted over his shoulder, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Where do you think I've been these last hours?"

"I don't know," I retorted loudly as he picked up speed and the flesh on my face began to ripple in the wind. "Fishing? Sword fighting? Proselytising about trampolines?"

I could hear Glorfindel roll his eyes, and a minute or two later, we had reached the jeweller's. I could have done a Pope and kissed the ground after surviving that extreme burst of speed, but I felt like the lack of context would have made such a display of relief disturbing to the locals.

We stepped inside, and a pair of Elves with black hair and shining green eyes smiled at us.

"You look pleased," said the one on the left. "I take it you'll have the rings?"

"Indeed we shall," said Glorfindel with a grin.

They gave us a congratulatory smile and handed over two slender silver rings. We checked that they fit, and giving our thanks, we departed, making for somewhere quiet again so as to not put the rings on in front of strangers.

We hadn't planned to stay long in the Grey Havens. We were really only there to say hello to the new arrivals and then travel back with them to present to Elrond, so departure was scheduled for the next morning, after breakfast.

I got up extremely early to go swimming, because it had been almost literally an entire age since I was last at the seaside, and you could bet your bottom dollar I wasn't going to squander my last few hours of beach time in bed.

It was still dark at that point, and nobody was around, so I stripped down to my underwear, bundled my clothes up in a towel, and tied it to one of the planks on the docks, and had a gay old time splashing and diving in the gorgeous, summer-warm water.

After a few hours of swimming, inspired by Aiwendil's fascination with the animals here, I started exploring under the docks to see what sort of marine life I could find there. I wasn't disappointed. There must have been at least ten different kinds of molluscs who had suctioned themselves to the underside of the planks. Tendrils of seaweed, ranging from minuscule to colossal, floated gently in large piles. Tiny crabs scuttled about busily on the rocks lying around the place, and I only just managed to get out of the way of a family of jellyfish blobbing on to some unspecified destination.

Immensely satisfied with my finds, I decided to swim back to my possessions when I heard footsteps from above me. Judging by the voices, it was Olórin and Círdan. I didn't want to suddenly swim out from under there and make myself look like an eavesdropper, so I slapped a piece of seaweed on my head and held on to one of the supports for the docks so I wouldn't make noise by splashing.

"Olórin, my heart tells me that you are deeply wise, and far more powerful than your appearance would have me believe," Círdan said.

Olórin laughed gently. "Well, Círdan, my appearance would likely have people believe that a strong gust of wind would be the end of me, so the bar is set awfully low."

"Even so," said Círdan with a chuckle, "I think this is best in your hands now. I feel that you will wield it best."

"What is it?"

"This is Narya, the ring of fire, one of the three Rings of Power made for the Elves. You have quite a task ahead of you, and it will aid you in resisting tyranny and fear, give you the power to inspire others to resist them, too, and it will keep you from feeling the weariness that comes with time. You will also find it hides the wearer from remote observation- except from Sauron, of course."

I looked up between the planks from beneath my seaweed hat and saw a gold ring with a gleaming ruby pass hands.

"That is kind, Círdan. My thanks to you."

"I hope it serves you well, Master," Círdan replied. The moment was interrupted by a bell ringing, which I presumed to be the one that rang when breakfast was ready, and they left the dock together.

Relieved that I could finally remove my hideously slimy headwear, I started to swim out, and when I looked up at the row of houses lining the promenade, I could see Curumo's head at one of the windows, scowling as he watched Círdan and Olórin walking away to one of the adjoining buildings.

Not keen to take any chances of him spotting me (not least because I was half-naked), I swam up to my things, untied them from the plank they were hanging off, and swam away under the docks until I reached a stretch of beach where I could dry off unnoticed.

Breakfast was a lot more pleasant when Curumo decided to sit and stew in his own juices, as he did this time. No doubt it was about his apparent inferior getting the ring instead of him. Still, no loss for the rest of us. It left more room for cheerful conversation with Olórin, which Glorfindel, Círdan, and I very much appreciated.

When it came time for us to make tracks, we said our thanks to Círdan for his hospitality and asked who would be coming with us to Imladris to meet Elrond. Olórin and Aiwendil ended up being the only two Istari who wanted to, Curumo and the creepy twins leaving with barely a word.

The journey back to Imladris was extremely pleasant. We enjoyed lovely, sunny weather most days, and Olórin was an excellent travelling companion who, though nervous at times, enjoyed being on the move greatly. Aiwendil was a little less engaged, but made up for it in the delight he had in the animals he met as we went further inland.

When we reached the outskirts of Imladris, Aiwendil decided to continue on eastwards, finding himself ill at ease at the thought of staying in a settlement (i.e. among other people). We farewelled him at the bottom of the valley, and I got that familiar swelling in my heart as I happily gazed on my home town glowing in the morning sunlight.

On the way up to Elrond's house, Glorfindel and I saw three figures hurtling toward us, crashing along the path with the subtlety of elephants in a porcelain shop. Elrond and Celebrían's children must have spotted us a fair way away to have run from as far away as they did. The three of them stopped half an inch away from us, grinning broadly.

"Hi there, nippers," I greeted them enthusiastically, snapping them up in a hug. Naturally, at over 750 years of age, they were nowhere near nipper stage, but old habits die hard. "I missed you three terribly! Did you keep your parents in line while we were away?"

"Barely," Arwen replied with a laugh as she held my hand and we started walking again. She turned her head around to look at our ancient co-traveller, and with her usual combination of charm and directness asked, "Who is your companion?" She smiled at Olórin sweetly.

"This is Olórin," Glorfindel said, putting a hand on the Istar's shoulder. "He is an old friend of mine. He has never been to Imladris before, so we thought a visit might be nice."

Elladan and Elrohir introduced themselves, watching Olórin with fascination. I couldn't recall them ever having seen anyone as wizened as our friend, and they looked like they were fighting back the urge to see how much extra skin they could pull up with their fingers before the wrinkles disappeared from his face. Thankfully, they were very subtle and reserved like their father, so I only recognised their internal struggle through centuries of observing them.

When we reached Elrond's house, the offspring scattered and returned to their activities only after Glorfindel and I had faithfully promised to tell them the latest news from the beachy side of the world after dinner that night.

I rapped my knuckles smartly on the door to Elrond's study, and when a voice from within invited us to enter, we stepped inside and were promptly greeted with a warm embrace from both Elrond and Celebrían. Introductions with Olórin followed, and we proceeded to sit and allow Olórin to reveal as much of himself to them as he wished.

Elrond and Celebrían were both very taken with him from the get-go, and assured him that he was welcome in Imladris at any time. After quite a few hours of intensive discussions, Elrond gave Olórin a couple of maps to assist him in his travel plans, along with some details of contacts around the place to help him along.

Olórin gratefully accepted all the help with thanks, and excused himself to rest a little (presumably attempting to keep up the old man facade). Not long after Olórin left, Bregedúr, undoubtedly having heard of our return from Arwen or the twins, came into the office, and thus began the first Happy Hour we'd had in a while.

"So, how was your journey overall?" Elrond asked us. "What did you get up to aside from meeting Olórin?"

Glorfindel brought his wine glass to his lips in such a way as to show off the band on his finger, and I propped my head up with my hand in much the same way as Elrond had done. For a moment, though, it didn't clock for anyone, and the unanswered question started to hang heavily until Celebrían, catching the ring on my finger, grabbed her spouse by the shoulder and exclaimed, "They're _betrothed!__"_ gesticulating wildly at our hands as she did.

Elrond did a double-take when he saw our rings, and his face threatened to split open from his smile. He clapped his hands as he laughed joyfully and said, "Oh, _magnificent__!"_

Bregedúr's jaw dropped, and she looked at us in disbelief.

"You _both_ became betrothed!" she gasped excitedly. "Amazing! Who to?"

Elrond rolled his eyes and gestured at the two of us. "To _each other_, Bregedúr! How did you not foresee this?" Bregedúr scowled.

I shrugged. "To be fair, neither did I."

Glorfindel, Elrond, and Celebrían laughed at this.

"Well, _we_ certainly did," said Celebrían with a wry smile. "It has been a very long time coming."

"Indeed," agreed Elrond. "I warned Glorfindel that if he didn't make a move soon, I would have to take you aside and inform you of your feelings for him myself." His eyes twinkled with mirth as he watched me splutter in shock.

"Not to worry," said Bregedúr, having quickly resumed her woman-of-action status. "That much is sorted. It would seem that we have a wedding to plan, now."

Thus ensued a Happy Hour in which Glorfindel and I happily allowed our friends to do our job of planning our wedding for us and we blamed our inability to help on travel fatigue.


	26. The duck among the pigeons

I was pleased Olórin decided to stay on for a few weeks in Imladris. For all his shyness and reservedness, he was an altruistic, happy sort of person, and we got along quite well.

He seemed to prefer solitude above all else, but he would seek Glorfindel, Elrond, or me out when he wanted company, so we saw enough of each other to be content in the other's presence.

In the time we had alone, I slowly started to disclose to him how little I knew about myself as a Maia, and to my relief, he didn't judge me in the slightest. Quite the contrary, in fact: he started giving me lessons, as it were, on how to be a Maia. He was a patient and kind teacher, and thanks to him, I picked up a few handy-dandy healing spells and a touch of fire manipulation, not to mention some fascinating stories about the Maia life in Valinor.

It seemed, as well, that Olórin had a degree of trust in me, or at least that his curiosity was enough to make him overlook any fears. This became apparent when he produced the knock at my office door that made me look up from the second volume of my chicken comic.

"Hello there, Olórin," I greeted him with a smile as I stuffed my drawings away. "Come on in and pull up a seat."

I poured him a glass of water, which he accepted with a grateful laugh that made me giggle, too. To be fair, the gesture seemed rather superficial considering we had absolutely no need of sustenance, but I knew we both felt better for it anyway.

"Rhodri," he began after a moment, "do you only give counsel to the Elves?"

"Well, not exactly," I answered slowly. "Someone asked me to train their dog for them once."

Olórin blinked at me, seemingly unsure of whether or not I was being serious, and with a laugh, I clarified.

"My mainstay prior to coming to Middle-Earth was mortals. Elves are all I have worked with since then, because only Elves have come to me for help, but I do not restrict my services to any one race. Why? Is there something you think you might like to discuss?"

Olórin nodded. He read through the confidentiality and ethics agreements with a laugh, saying, "Is this really necessary? I will know automatically if you fail in any of your promises listed here."

"It is if you want to disclose anything to me in this capacity," I raised an eyebrow at him. "Humour me," I requested as he raised an eyebrow right back at me.

Laughing pleasantly again, he signed at the bottom of the page with a small G rune. An odd choice for someone whose name started with an O, but why the hell not? I liked his style.

"So tell me what's on your mind," I invited.

Olórin sighed. "I am not content, Rhodri," he confessed.

"Oh?"

"It is not for a lack of hospitality or good company," he added quickly. "Everyone has been most welcoming and gracious. But I do not see any real reason to be here." He cast his eyes down and folded his hands in his lap.

"No reason at all, Olórin?" I asked. "It seems rather odd for a group of five Maia--out of the hundreds of us that exist-- to be chosen at random and shipped over here. Do you believe this was all up to chance?"

Olórin frowned a little as he considered my question. "I do not suppose the Valar chose lightly," he conceded after a moment.

"Do you regret being among the chosen?"

He looked around like he wanted to speak but was afraid of the consequences.

"Keep in mind that you signed a document which binds me to secrecy," I reminded him, conveniently leaving out that there was no magic that would see me dematerialise should I violate the agreement.

It did the trick, though, as it mollified him a little. He pulled his chair up closer to my desk, and I did the same. Cautiously, he began to speak.

"To be truthful," he professed, "I did not wish to come to Middle-Earth in the first instance. I wanted to stay in Valinor and continue my tutelage under Lady Nienna."

"Is the disruption to your plans with Lady Nienna the reason you did not wish to travel to Middle-Earth, though?" I looked him straight in his rheumy, grey eyes. "Surely this isn't the first time you have had to forgo your original plans to do the bidding of another."

Olórin watched me shrewdly, brows knitted, and after a moment seemed to accept his discomfort. He rubbed his forehead wearily, letting out a puff of air.

"I am afraid of Sauron and to be sure, I am not strong enough to be of use here," he rumbled quietly. "When I voiced my concerns, though, Manwë told me that that was all the more reason for me to go as one of the Istari."

Ah. So it came down to fear, feelings of inadequacy, or perhaps both.

I couldn't blame Olórin for bricking over having to deal with Sauron. Imagine growing up in the sort of place where euphoria and virtue are the norm, only have your mentors pack you up and post you off to a strange, hostile land to help fight against one of their errant students. I'd hate it, too, and there was only so much I could really do for that.

Feelings of inadequacy, however-- those are a whole other beast. They're born of insecurity, thrive on skewed perceptions of ability, duties and self-worth, and die in the face of reality and confidence. Insecurity was absolutely something I could help with. But if it was there, what was driving it?

"Well, look, I think a fear of Sauron is perfectly reasonable. He is very powerful, and as you will have heard from Elrond, he has managed to cajole quite a large amount of the populace into doing his bidding," I said openly. "In fact, I think a lack of fear would be quite foolhardy."

Olórin watched me speak, and seemed to be a little surprised that I was admitting freely that I would find it unhealthy if he didn't show any signs of worry about our villain. He raised his eyebrows a little, but accepted my opinion well enough.

"But," I continued, "I'd like to look a little closer at your idea of strength. Tell me, exactly what is it that you should be capable of doing here? Are you hoping to be able to administer a few hard punches and single-handedly kill Sauron that way?"

Olórin pursed his lips at my ridiculous statement, saying nothing.

"My use of exaggeration doesn't negate the fact that I asked you a question, Olórin," I prompted him. "But even if you don't tellmethe answer, at least tell yourself."

The silence continued, but this time I could see the cogs were whirring in Olórin's head, presumably as he outlined his own expectations. I was going to move on to the next question, but then he spoke.

"It feels like I have to find a way to defeat Sauron through mobilising everyone in Middle-Earth to take him on," he mumbled, rubbing his thumbs together.

"Was that what was asked of you by the Valar?"

Olórin paused. "It was not."

"What was asked of you?"

"That I would counsel and assist those who oppressed Sauron."

"That request seems a lot smaller than that which you are asking of yourself," I said to him, adding, "not that your actual instructions do not entail a large task. They certainly do, but you are a counsellor here, not a general or a monarch."

"Perhaps I am too weak even for that," he muttered softly, half to himself and half to me.

"Keep in mind, Olórin," I continued, "that you were not sent to shoulder all of this yourself. You came as one of a group of five," I held up five fingers, "to travel around Middle-Earth and unite various peoples together. I know that might seem intimidating, but you are already doing an exceptional job. I can see that Elrond, a very influential figure, is already very pleased to have met you."

His shoulders un-tensed a little as he kept watching me.

"Do you know, Olórin," I said as I stood up and took the checkers board from the shelf, "there's a fascinating concept called 'impostor syndrome.' It refers to the unqualified feeling that you are inadequate despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. Youarevery skilled and wise, and statistically speaking have a far better chance of making a difference than most other inhabitants here."

I opened the board on the table and set it up, giving him a quick run-over of the rules.

Olórin looked at me quizzically, but chose the red counters for himself.

"Do you think you can win this game in one move?" I asked him.

He glanced at the board and then back up at me, and shook his head, moving one of his pieces.

"Do you think you have a reasonable chance of beating me in due course?" I enquired after we had both had a few moves each.

Olórin jumped one of my pieces and nodded at me slowly. I nodded back.

"I think you need to be a little more gentle with yourself," I said to him mildly. You've only been here for a few months. How are you supposed to know an entire continent and its peoples like the back of your hand in that timeframe, hm? It's just not possible. Give yourself time to get to know the place. It's really beautiful, and there's an awful lot to learn. Meet the people, get to know them, be a friend. You'll make your mark, and people will remember you. Bit by bit, you know?"

Olórin forced himself to look up at me, and I saw a hint of relief in his eyes. I thought it was almost cruel of the Valar to not properly prepare their Maia for such a huge task as this, knowing that he was inclined to be nervous.

"I think you're going to do an amazing job," I said to him. "And you know, you can come and find me at any time and we can talk more, for as long as you need. I'm here for you, all right?"

Finally, I saw a small, sweet smile turn up the corners of Olórin's mouth. He nodded, but this time it wasn't just a nod of understanding, but also one of the beginnings of acceptance.

He glanced back down at the board and jumped my last checker.

"I don't believe this."

Olórin didn't stay much longer in Imladris after that. That didn't come as much of a surprise to Glorfindel, or to me, after having seen how happy he was being on the move when we had travelled back from the Grey Havens. And really, it must have been very restricting having to keep up a plausible schedule for an old man in a place like this. There was no way he needed to shuffle around the way he did, like his slippers had been stuck to the floor with chewing gum, but he had certainly done what he needed to so that he looked the part.

"I hope you'll come back and visit from time to time," I said to Olórin over breakfast the day he was due to depart. "I know you're a very important international jetsetter, but we'll miss having you around here."

This was met with nods from Glorfindel, Elrond, and Celebrían.

Olórin gave a small but genuine smile as he said, "Oh, I shall be here again before long. I intend to make for the east, but stop at Lothlórien, so I will turn back and pass through Imladris again in time for your wedding." His eyes twinkled under his expansive, untamed eyebrows.

Glorfindel cooed in excitement. By this point, our wedding was scheduled to occur in just under a year, and I knew he had been hoping (as we all had) that Olórin would attend.

Half an hour later, Olórin was standing with us at the entrance to Elrond's courtyard.

_"Keep an eye out while you're out there," _I whispered to him in Valarin as I hugged him goodbye. It was the closest I could get to a warning about Saruman, and I hoped he'd at least keep it in the back of his head as he went along.

Olórin smiled, nodded once, and with a wave to all of us he was off, humming cheerfully to himself.


	27. Same young, same young

It wasn't very often that I had more than one person in my office. There was seldom the need for it. Couples' counselling wasn't really needed in Imladris given the typical harmony of Elven unions.

I'd been sitting in my office in my usual shut-in manner, devising a life satisfaction questionnaire suitable for the Imladris demographic. A curious, distinctly out-of-rhythm knock at the door made me look up from my work. It sounded like someone was using both hands to knock without managing to pay any attention to either hand as they did.

I invited the unsteady enquirer in, and found to my delight that two people I was very fond of entered.

"Elladan! Elrohir! What a nice surprise," I beamed at them as I got up and fetched a second chair. "Sit yourselves down."

They smiled as they took a seat. It was a rare treat getting time alone with my nephews these days, now that they were often out exploring the plains with the Dúnedain.

"I'm so pleased you both came to visit," I said as I dispensed some water for the two of them. "Have you got time for a round or two of snap?"

They both nodded, and when Elladan saw Elrohir nodding as well, he stopped, and said, "Snap sounds excellent."

I shot them the thumbs-up as I fetched the playing cards and started to deal them out into three small piles. I picked up my little stack of cards, and they both retrieved theirs, holding the cards in the same hand. This time, Elrohir was first to pick up on this, and he quickly switched his cards into his right hand.

I looked at them both and put my cards face-down on the table. "Not to pry, my loves," I said diplomatically, "but I'm sensing a theme here."

There was such an interesting mix of Elrond and Celebrían in the both of them. They required prodding, just like their father, to divulge information- even when it was something they were bursting to talk about. Celebrían's hot-headedness, however, made it so that I had to prod much less with them than dear old Elrond.

It would seem like a small mercy, but as soon as my words were out, they both launched into their own separate rants, gesticulating irritably and looking thoroughly disgruntled. I waved to try and get their attention, to no avail. I decided to pause and wait for the duo to quieten down, and when that failed, I started whacking the desk with my hand like a judge getting their money's worth out of their gavel. They paused and looked at me.

"Indulge me and pretend I'm only smart enough to process one angry rant at a time," I requested, arching an eyebrow.

Each let out a sigh—much to the other's displeasure, and when they went to lean back in their seats, they got frustrated again. It was a little late in the piece for this to be happening, but I got the impression there was some small identity crisis going on here.

"Raise your hand if you're sick of being a twin," I said, getting comfortable in my seat.

Elladan and Elrohir's hands (both left hands, of course) shot up, and then they uneasily took them down, watching each other guiltily as they did.

I watched them closely. "Keep in mind how I phrased that. If you're sick of being _a_ twin, as opposed to _each other's_ twin."

"What's the difference?" Elladan asked.

"One is how everyone else sees and treats you, and the other is being that closely connected to each other."

"I like being your twin," Elrohir offered to Elladan. Elladan smiled.

"Do you like being his twin?" I asked Elladan. Elladan smiled and nodded at Elrohir.

"So what's wrong, then? Are people accidentally swapping you around?"

Elrohir groaned. "I wish that was all it was."

My brow furrowed. "Is someone trying to sew you both together?"

"You may well joke," Elladan said defensively, "but they might as well be!"

"You may think I jest, but there's no upper limit on what some people try to do," I said, holding up my hands in a peacekeeping gesture. "I am merely giving you options. So what is it they're actually doing? And who, in this case, are _they?"_

"They are all of the people we meet while we roam with the Dúnedain," Elladan said.

"People treat us like we are one single entity!" Elrohir added. "It is becoming frustrating in the extreme."

"Are you hoping to discuss this with a psychologist, or with your aunt?" I asked simply.

"Is there much of a difference?"

"As a psychologist, I'll take notes and keep them in your file, and I'm bound to secrecy, plus we have to have a short talk about said secrecy and ethics. I'll ask you questions so you arrive at your own answers, which means I will keep a professional, objective distance from you. As your aunt, I'll listen and won't tell anyone if you ask me not to, but I'll dispense advice as I see fit. In aunt mode, I am also able to provide hugs and food."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, and said in chorus, "Aunt mode, please," as they turned to look at me. I nodded. Their choice was no real surprise to me. All three of Elrond and Celebrían's children had turned out to be rather snuggly people, particularly when something was bothering them. It would have been beyond unprofessional to cuddle up to a client, even in times of great distress.

"Well, you know of course that you can change your mind at any time, but all right. Tell Auntie Rhodri all about it."

"Ai, Auntie, all these people we come across in our travels, they pay attention to one of us and ignore the other," Elladan started.

"Apparently one person's opinions count for the other's as well," added Elrohir.

"If only they would get our names wrong," grumbled Elladan. "At least that would show they know there are two of us."

"So you don't feel like you are being recognised as individuals, but as though one is simply an exact copy of the other?" I asked.

They nodded.

"Right, so what have you done about it so far?"

"That's the thing," groaned Elrohir. "We do not know where to start. It will be exhausting telling people constantly about this as we travel."

"Though that does seem like the obvious choice," I added quickly. "Look, here's the thing. Twins and multiple children, especially identical ones, are much closer than regular siblings because they share so many more physical and emotional traits. Because of this, you will, as a rule, be much more likely to have similar opinions on things, similar ways of thinking about things, solving problems, that sort of thing. And let's face, it, you two do behave very alike at times."

Both of them scowled at that, and I raised my eyebrows at them.

"Hey now, look, I know you're two separate people," I clarified. "But you know, you grow up in such close proximity of one another, and we are creatures who imitate each other so that we can fit in. Unfortunately, most people aren't automatically inclined to understand what it's like to have a twin. We who do not have them simply cannot imagine it for ourselves, so you're not likely to find many who will understand the issues you face."

I picked up my pile of cards and threw one down on the table. "You are not without options, though. You could always try to make your differences, rather than your similarities, stand out a little more."

"Like what?" Elladan asked as he put a card down.

"Well, think about the ways you both behave that set you apart. As an example, you, Elladan," I pointed at him, "are usually the one to initiate something. Jumping into painting the bigger picture."

I moved my finger to Elrohir. "You, however, are the one to continue things. Provide context, fill in the details. You follow through. Do you want more examples?"

They nodded.

"Louder. Quieter. Tidier. More messy. More impulsive. More cautious. Harp. Flute." I moved my finger between Elladan and Elrohir respectively as I went through the list. "These are all things you could exaggerate to make the differences seem bigger."

They looked at each other.

"Did you say we have other options?" Elrohir enquired after a moment.

"I mean, I suppose you could do something physically to distinguish yourselves from each other. You both dress identically, and your styles don't differ in the least. Could one of you dye your hair blond or something? Wear different clothes perhaps?"

They both sat there, brows knitted, and after a moment, Elladan asked, "I don't think that will work for us. We do not wish to change our appearance."

Elrohir nodded. "Not at all. We are quite used to looking this way, and it would be inconvenient to keep up. Do you have any other suggestions?"

They weren't making this very easy for themselves. That was the third perfectly viable option they had turned down now.

"Be more vocal about your differences in opinion. Develop turns of phrase that one uses and the other one doesn't. Elrohir," I pointed at him, "You think toasted bread should never have fruit on it. Be open about it. Talk about fruit-free toast whenever you can get a word in. And Elladan, you should rebut that with your argument that jam should be the only thing that goes on toasted bread. Elrohir, greet people by saying something like, "Hello," and Elladan, say "Good day.""

Elladan and Elrohir looked at me wide-eyed, shocked at my suggestion. I I blinked so hard I could have sworn I could hear my eyelids clap together, such was my struggle to contain my incredulity.

"Look, you two, If you don't want to change anything about yourselves, then you will have to speak to people about it. They're never going to know unless you tell them, and the people worth being around will take your request on board and treat you as you wish to be treated."

"But we don't want to have to speak to them," Elladan complained petulantly. His voice had grown uncharacteristically high.

I shut my eyes for a moment, hoping that some deity would have mercy on me and grant me the patience I knew I would need. Elladan and Elrohir were usually very relaxed and open to compromise, but sometimes they were seized by a moment of mulishness, and it was game over for any reasonable arguments.

"So let me get this straight," I said slowly, looking down at my fingertips as I summoned the last ounce of my forbearance. "You want to continue to look identical, act in ways that are almost identical to people who don't know you, voice the same opinions, not inform people that you would like to be treated differently, and somehow would like to be treated more as individuals. Is that correct?"

"Yes," they said in a noisy but curiously cheerful chorus.

"Well," I said as I started to look up, "I'm sorry, but you'll just have to- what on earth are you laughing about?"

The two of them were sitting there, red-faced and biting their lips as they suppressed a grin, an occasional tiny snort escaping them. And then it hit me.

"You horrible children, you've been having me on this entire time," I said in disbelief.

With that, the two of them dissolved into hysterical laughter, wheezing into their laps as they doubled over in their seats.

"Why did I not see this coming…" I whispered to myself as I rubbed my temples. "You've been pranking me ever since you saw Aunt Bregedúr put that lizard in my bed."

"Not to worry, Auntie Rhodri," giggled Elladan as he wiped a tear from his eye. "It was all very sound advice, really."

Elrohir took a shuddering breath as he calmed himself. "We do talk to anyone if it's a real problem, but most of the time we are not bothered by it any longer," he informed me. "We are happy, do not worry."

"Are you still interested in playing that game of snap, by the way?" Elladan asked brightly, joining his brother in giving me their sweetest, most winning smiles.

I looked at them and sighed. They already knew they had won.

"Kids today…" I mumbled under my breath as I threw my next card on the pile, failing to completely keep the smile off my face.


	28. 1 plus 1 equals 1

Author's note

Honestly, it's not a plot spoiler that Rhodri and Glorfindel marry by this point, but that's what's here. I wasn't really sure if I should put in or leave out explicit sex scenes, so I played it safe and left it out, but I finished the chapter in such a way that it could be added next chapter if people want it. Drop a comment if you do, otherwise I'll happily just skip to the next bit.

FriendlyNeighbourhoodHufflepuff: Oh my god these two kill me! :D

earthdragon: I'm glad they got together, too, tbh. Took an age, but it's nice that Rhodri's brain kicked in at the eleventh hour. I reckon Aiwendil would be a very likeable sort as well- at least, as much as he can be given that he gives far more of a fig about animals and plants than he does about people. We all have that friend... :P

pineapple-pancake: Ohhh, your comment made my day! I do try to keep it reasonably academic (discounting the fluff you're about to read here, of course). I kind of hope to chuck in a few interesting facts that make people think. I know I like tidbits and especially loved yours about spiders :D I think Gandalf will stay pretty humble, to be honest. If there's a change in behaviour there, we'll know because he'll probably get about Middle-Earth looking like the Monopoly Man. Also, very random, but every time I read your username, I think of that song Pineapple Pen. That's a mighty fine earworm to get :D

§

It was coming up to the last two weeks before the wedding now, and there was no unanimous answer available as to how the preparations were going. Had anyone asked Glorfindel and me, they were terrific. Bregedúr and Legolas would probably have shrugged and said it went quite fine. Nobody would have been able to reach Elrond to make an enquiry on his opinion, because he was running around like a blue-arsed fly, agonising over tiny things about this wedding that never would have occurred to any of the rest of us.

And so it had been the last little while. It was probably one of the only time I wished I were a psychiatrist, so that I could have put my almighty doctor's foot down and ordered that Elrond spend the entire lead-up to the big day zonked out on benzodiazepines. Never, in all my born days, had I seen someone get so stressed about colour schemes.

"Elrond," I said to him as we two and our partners plus Bregedúr and Legolas sat on the balcony, nursing a wine, "If you were a human you'd have had a stroke by now." He had spent the last fifteen minutes worrying that suitable flowers might not be in season in two weeks' time.

"To be perfectly honest, Rhodri, I think someone stroking my hair would be highly desirable right now," croaked Elrond.

"That's not what a stroke is in that context," I returned, "but I suppose that's neither here nor there." Celebrían put a hand on his knee, and he softened a little as he went quiet.

I sighed. "Look, Elrond, much as it might sound like a platitude, let me assure you that the things we really care about are already taken care of. You good folk will be here," I gestured at everyone present, "We'll say the magic words, there'll lots of food and dancing, and that's essentially all there is to it."

Glorfindel nodded happily. "You should spend more time enjoying yourself like we are, mellon-nîn," he said with a jaunty smile at his friend.

Elrond goggled at Glorfindel like he had just asked him to invent the television. Elrond was a darling, but it was common knowledge among his loved ones that it was Celebrían's life's work as his spouse to get him to stop stressing so much over the little things. And what a relief it was that she had stepped up to do it, because before that it had fallen to Glorfindel and me, and the two of us were nowhere near as effective at it as she was.

"Let me say it again, Elrond, just to make it explicitly clear," I said gently. I held up my index finger. "One: we do not need flowers. We are happy for them to sit in the fields and attract the bees. There will be food on the tables, and if people are paying attention to other things than the food or how fabulous we'll all be looking, they are probably at the wrong event."

Another finger came up. "Two, the colour scheme is unimportant for the same reasons."

Up shot the third finger. "Three, there is plenty of room for everyone, and nobody really minds where they stay. They just want to be out of the elements."

"And finally, four," I raised my little finger, "even if they were important, we wouldn't want you to be getting so stressed about it. We know you love to organise and sort things," I added as Elrond opened his mouth to protest, "But it's not good for you when you get this het up about it."

Elrond looked every bit the type-A personality as he sat there, brow furrowed, chewing his lip and tapping his fingers nervously. I could see he wasn't going to let this go easily. I glanced at Glorfindel, who seemed to have noticed much the same, and we both knew that we could not afford to not care about these things any more, otherwise Elrond was going to have a conniption.

It wasn't that he was genuinely caught up in things like seasonal availability of flowers or inspecting the matchy-matchiness of colour schemes. Elrond had never shown any especial interest in interior design like this before. No, his fixation on these details was how his anxiety manifested when he worried the day wouldn't go perfectly.

Normally, when people start to worry like this and they devote more focus than is necessary on things that are, relatively speaking, inconsequential, it is a sign they would benefit from a little help with putting things into perspective. It felt awful knowing that Elrond was getting eaten up like this by such small details.

Unfortunately, Elrond had remained staunchly resistant to entering any sort of psychotherapy, which was fair. It was entirely his choice, but it meant that I was not able to be of any assistance to him in a meaningful way, because he presently had very little insight. Informal suggestions would not work. He needed to be sat down, properly assessed, and to hear some very uncomfortable clinical truths. As a friend, I could not provide any of these things. All I could do to assuage him was to waylay concerns by helping with things that cropped up now and then. Band-aid solutions at best, but at least they kept him fairly level. And it seemed now that another band-aid solution was needed.

"But look, Elrond, honestly, if having an opinion on these things will make you stress less, we'll give you some ideas."

Glorfindel nodded fervently. "I like sunflowers best," he said with a broad grin.

"Yes, they're lovely, and sunflowers are abundant right now," I chimed in with a nod. I didn't really care for most flowers in general, but if it kept Elrond calm at this point, I would have been happy to sleep in the garden bed.

"My favourite colour is blue," I continued, "And we know Glorfindel's is gold, so colour scheme is sorted. The flowers even match the colours!"

"And we still have plenty of rooms left in the house up here, but still not all of the houses in Imladris are occupied, and many are still in perfect condition to move straight into, so we are not lacking for space, either," Glorfindel added.

"I think that's about everything that is left to sort out, actually," I murmured, drumming my fingers on my knee. "Can any of you think of anything else that needs doing?"

I could practically hear the swishing sound as everyone shook their heads.

"Excellent," I said with a smile. "All sorted, then. Gee, we should take up careers as wedding planners, shouldn't we?"

Elrond was rendered apoplectic for a short moment before I added quickly, "Don't get too excited, Elrond, it's not really a viable career option here yet. Give it a few yén and maybe then we'll have enough to think of starting up a business."

Elrond gave me a playfully withering look and took a mouthful of wine. Before he could swallow it, he started to make a noise and pointed at something over the balcony on the ground. We craned our necks to get a good look. Someone was coming up the path. A tall, grey, bedraggled-looking someone.

"Well, well," I said loudly, so the traveller looked up. "Would you just look what the wind blew in!"

The grey figure waved at us, and a few minutes later he was on the balcony with us, holding a wine of his own.

"So, where have you been, Olórin?" Glorfindel asked eagerly.

"I had intended to take the mountain pass through Caradhras, but I made the acquaintance of one Durin the Fifth some short way from the mountain range. It seemed he had been ambushed by some wayward creatures whose name escapes me now. I sent them off, and he, being quite pleased with me, invited me into his home in Khazad-dûm to enjoy the hospitality of the Dwarves."

I laughed inwardly. This guy was off to a flying start. He seemed to have no idea how mistrustful the Dwarves could be, so he had made incredible progress.

"There I stayed for a good while," he continued. "It would seem that the Dwarves are also displeased with Sauron, so they were quite pleased to find an ally- especially one that wasn't Elven," Olórin added, raising his eyebrows at us.

Ah. Perhaps he did know about their mistrustfulness. The entire Elf-Dwarf story was a sticky one at best, and it was one I was happy to leave up to Elrond to relay.

"It would seem that Aiwendil passed that way earlier on, though," Olórin observed. One of the Dwarves informed me that someone like me, all in brown, had sped by on a vehicle of sorts, driven by Rhosgobel rabbits."

"Ah, so he's settling in well," I commented, struggling to keep a deadpan face as Elrond and Bregedúr's eyes widened in shock and confusion. "Did you come across any of the other Istari on your travels?"

"I did not," Gandalf admitted, "but further on in my travels, I found myself in Lothlórien, where I had the pleasure of meeting with the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Lady Galadriel, it seems, is aware of the five of us."

"Did she have much to say about it?"

"She was particularly interested to learn more about Curumo, but he is the most powerful of us and was appointed the leader, so that is hardly surprising."

I sat quietly after that, leaving the interrogations over to the other five. I turned Olórin's words over and over in my head, wondering if there was a chance Galadriel harboured even the smallest suspicion about Curumo. I couldn't be the only one, surely, who had gotten bad vibes from the guy.

The conversation continued until dark, after which we made our way to dinner. I decided I would have to think about how to broach this with Elrond and Olórin, because maybe this was all a misunderstanding and there was nothing to broach. Perhaps Curumo was just a tad childish and would make up for it in doing a terrific job of eradicating Sauron. One of those insufferable types who is so because they are right, they know it, and they have no time for the perspectives of others. I didn't want to put unfounded suspicions in their head.

The worry kept nagging away at me over the coming days, and though finding accommodations for the wedding guests who had started to trickle in from all over distracted me somewhat, it never fully stemmed the concern.

Eventually, I made a compromise with myself. I would keep my opinion to myself until either Curumo showed up, or there had been talk of concerning behaviours.

Had I not placated myself with this, I would have brooded over it at my own damned wedding ceremony, and I found myself positively incensed at the idea of this repellent old fart spoiling the mood for that day.

It ended up being one of the smarter things I had done through my time in Middle-Earth, because when the big day rolled around, I was cool as a cucumber. I'd gotten up at the usual time, had a small breakfast, and chatted with a few guests. It was all going quite smoothly.

Much like the couple have a specific outfit for the wedding in Earth festivities, Glorfindel and I both had a special set of robes made up for the occasion: mine were deep blue, with gold trimmings and the embroidered seal of the House of the Golden Flower peppered all over it. It was customary to have the partner's house's emblem on one's clothes or damascened on a piece of jewellery on the wedding day. It was lucky Elrond had essentially adopted me as part of his own house, so I got to have his own emblem as well. Had I been required to supply one of my own, I knew I would have come up with something tasteless or would be an inside joke for me alone (such as insisting that my traditional family heraldry was the McDonald's Golden Arches).

When I was fully dressed and appropriately groomed, I headed out to where the feast was, and when I arrived, I was greeted with a sight that both made me laugh and catch my breath all at once.

Glorfindel, in some kind of freakish matchy-matchy moment, stood in robes of gold with deep blue trimmings, with Elrond's sigil stitched on in thread of the same colour. He had a wrought gold circlet on his head, and in all, looked absolutely stunning.

He saw me come in and immediately strode over to me, beaming.

"You look perfect," he whispered to me, taking my hands in his.

"You most certainly do," I breathed back, feeling my face heat up.

He blushed gently, and together we went to the top of the table where we were expected to sit during the feast. I noticed Glorfindel was squeezing my hand fairly hard as we walked.

"Everything all right?" I asked quietly.

Glorfindel smiled. "Oh, yes," he replied calmly.

"Are you sure? You're squeezing my hand rather tightly. It's all right to be nervous, you know."

He lifted my hand to his lips and put a soft but slightly lingering kiss on it, not taking his eyes off me the entire time.

"It's not nerves," he murmured, putting my hand back down.

Oh.

We sat down at the table, and our eyes nearly fell out of our heads as we saw the food in front of us. This was a veritable banquet. There were no fewer than 10 types of breads, a supermarket's worth of vegetables, and more main course dishes were being brought out by the minute.

Most people had already arrived and taken their seats by the time we entered the hall, so it was a mercifully short wait until we got to start loading our plates.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Elrond caught everyone's attention as he rose to his feet and went to the front of the hall, followed closely by Celebrían and Bregedúr. That was our cue. We got up and went over to where they stood. The hall was silent.

Elrond turned to face us and he gently asked, "Are you both ready?"

Glorfindel and I glanced at each other and with smiles a mile wide, nodded fervently in synchrony. The excitement was so intense I nearly bounced on my toes.

"In which case, let us begin." Elrond took Glorfindel's hands, and Bregedúr and Celebrían each took one of mine.

"In the name of The One, Almighty Iluvatar," Elrond declared, "I call on Manwë, Lord of the Breath of Arda, to witness the blessed union of Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower and Rhodri of the House of Elrond. Glorfindel, if your desire is to seal yourself to Rhodri in the indissoluble bond of marriage, make it known now."

"It is," said Glorfindel clearly, beaming at me as the words came out. Elrond and Bregedúr each joined one of our hands together.

"And in the name of the One, Almighty Iluvatar," Celebrían followed, "I call on Varda, Lady of the Stars, to witness the blessed union of Rhodri of the House of Elrond to Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower."

"Rhodri," Bregedúr continued, "If your desire is to seal yourself to Glorfindel in the indissoluble bond of marriage, make it known now."

"It is," I said through a broad smile, nodding happily. Celebrían and Elrond joined our other hands together.

"In which case, you may give back your betrothal rings," Elrond said.

We slipped our silver rings off and handed them back to each other.

"And you may now adorn each other with your wedding rings," said Bregedúr as Celebrían handed each of us a gold ring, which we each placed on the other's right index fingers.

Elrond stepped away a moment and returned with a deep blue sapphire on a gold chain. He stood behind me and carefully fastened it around my neck. "For you, Rhodri," he said, "I give a sapphire, the symbol of wise judgement, kindness, and strength."

Bregedúr and Celebrían retrieved a chain, but instead of a sapphire, a bright aquamarine was encrusted on it. "And for you, Glorfindel," said Celebrían as they clasped it on him, "we give the aquamarine, the symbol of happiness, eternal youth, and courage."

Glorfindel and I both had a hard time keeping our emotions in check at that point. There was already the requisite overwhelming set of feelings that came with us marrying, but on top of that, we felt the love and care of these people- our family and best friends- more keenly in that moment than we ever had (which was saying an awful lot). I could see my vision grow bad as my eyes started to water, and when I glanced at Glorfindel, he looked back at me with similarly moist eyes.

When we looked at Elrond, Celebrían, and Bregedúr, we could see they were also experiencing difficulty holding back tears. In the next moment, presumably seized by identical feelings, Glorfindel and I both snatched the three of them up in a bone-crushing group hug.

"You fools," choked Bregedúr, "you're not supposed to hug the _officiants_ when you marry!"

Her bitey humour was just what was called for at that moment, otherwise I firmly believe we all would have both broken down into a collective, blubbering mess. It was enough to get us to laugh and put our friends back down on the floor.

"And so," Elrond announced to the hall as he dried his eyes, "Rhodri and Glorfindel are wed, and the houses of Elrond and the Golden Flower are joined!"

This was met with cheering and applause so loud that I could almost feel the vibrations on the air. With one fairly chaste kiss for the approval of the crowd, Glorfindel and I invited everyone to proceed to the ballroom for dancing, music, and desserts.

Everyone filed into the next room, and Glorfindel and I trailed behind them, walking together in much closer proximity than we had before. For the first time, he had a hand resting on my hip, his thumb stroking the small, soft padding there. My own hand was in the same spot on him, and I had to exert considerable effort not to squeeze there. I ventured one look at him and saw that he was smiling at me shyly. My face got hot for a moment, and we picked up the pace and went into the ballroom.

Everything about the rest of the evening was great. The music was terrific, the desserts were dangerously good, and the dancing was full of energy and joy. I don't think anything could have dampened the mood that night.

"This has gone absolutely perfectly," Glorfindel said to me some time close to midnight as we waltzed around the room with the same vigour as we had at the start of the evening.

"Oh, yes," I replied with a cheerful nod. "Flawless." I paused and briefly looked him over. "And the wedding's been great, too," I added with a wicked grin as I raised my eyebrows at him.

Glorfindel bit his lip as he suppressed a laugh, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Neither of us said anything to the other, but we slowed down and started to look around the room. Everybody else was busy dancing, chatting, or attacking their nth round of dessert. With one glance, we quietly slipped out of the ballroom and as lightly as we could, ran along the corridors to my quarters, which were closer.

I stopped just outside the door as I recalled the day Glorfindel stood there, screaming with laughter at my dreadful gaffe with the toothbrush. I'd had to drag him into my room so that he wouldn't attract any attention.

I opened the door, turned on an oil lamp, and we went inside, and the memory continued to play out. His enchanting smile as he suggested we go swimming in the rain, those eyes sparkling with the same delightful, contagious joy that now sent my heart rate skyrocketing.

Glorfindel slipped off his robe and hung it over the back of a chair, and when he turned around, he saw me staring at him.

"What is it, Rhodri?" he asked, smiling tenderly.

I went over to him and slipped my arms around his waist, gently pulling him toward me.

"How on earth did I not see it sooner…" I murmured, shaking my head in disbelief as I searched his face.

Glorfindel smiled softly as he carefully unhooked my arms from around him and slid my top robe off.

"For my part," he said as he put my robe on top of his and walked back to me, "I did not mind the wait. I am just happy to be yours." He cupped my face in his hands and brushed his lips over mine. "My Rhodri."


	29. Cool threads, dude

**Author's note: **

Yeah, so this chapter is entirely explicit, so big ol' CW for sex.

FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff: They cute me out, but I can't help but feel like I would be like Bregedúr and just shout at the two of them. :P

pineapple-pancake: I have now learned about pineapple pancakes! my god, what a time to be alive haha. Your comments are so kind, I hope the chapter will be ok! :D

His whisper made the hair on my neck stand on end. I tried to force myself to keep calm, but as his soft, full lips passed over mine, whatever self-restraint I had been exercising through the day evaporated.

I snatched Glorfindel up so fast and forcefully it was like my arms were spring-loaded. One hand was in the middle of his back, the other supported his head as I drew him close and pressed my mouth hard against his.

He let out a long, low moan, and kissed back with equal intensity as he let himself be gently rocked in my arms. I paused a moment and drank in his beautiful face, feeling myself get lost in his eyes.

"My Glorfindel," I murmured as I cleared an errant strand of hair from his vision.

Glorfindel seemed to glow as he smiled from ear to ear, nodding at me. I rested my forehead against his. I was suddenly filled with an almost retroactive fear when I thought about how easily I could have gone on not noticing my own feelings for Glorfindel. What if he had said nothing, or if I only realised after I had missed my chance to say something? The panic ate at me for a moment, almost putting me in a stranglehold.

"You cannot imagine how much I love you," I whispered, a whisper being all I could manage at that point. I heard a small breath leave him and our faces collided as he kissed me the hardest he ever had. Now Glorfindel was the one clamping me to him tightly, holding me steady as he rubbed my neck with his thumb. When he was finally forced to pause for a breath, he looked at me, his wide, blue eyes boring into mine.

"Nor can you," was all he said before he gently guided me backwards onto the bed.

He slipped his robe off and hung it over the chair nearby, taking mine as well. Stepping back to me, he sought my lips again as he slowly climbed on top of me. His tongue brushed against my lips, and as I opened them, he began to softly delve. My own tongue moved into his mouth, and our kiss quickly became deeper and more urgent. Hands started to roam, mine passing down over his waist and up again as I went under his tunic. I relished the feeling of his smooth skin under my fingers, flesh that I hadn't ever touched and greedily wanted more of.

The kiss broke, and Glorfindel smiled as he slipped his tunic off, revealing a bare torso that was a work of art. Sculpted, broad at the top, tapered at the bottom, with a dusting of gold hair that I could see went from his chest down to-

My breath caught audibly.

"What is it, Rhodri?" Glorfindel asked coyly as he started helping me off with my shirt.

I felt my cheeks burn, not that there was a good reason for it. It wasn't like we'd come here to take a lead lighting class.

"Oh, ah, just admiring that lovely pot plant you have over there. Haven't seen that kind before," I croaked as I pointed at the begonia on the window sill, feebly attempting to allay my embarrassment of being caught in a moment of lasciviousness.

Glorfindel paused, and then burst into clear, melodic laughter. "Rhodri," he whispered to me as he leaned in and gave me a knowing look, "You may recall that this is _your_ room, and you _stole_ that pot plant from Bregedúr when you found out she wasn't watering it enough."  
He chuckled and shook his head. "You really are a terrible liar, you know."

I had nothing I could say to that. I was lying there with my shirt half on, half off, my entire face bright red now. Rather than continue to dig my own grave, I finished undressing my top half and set my tunic on the ground.

Glorfindel swallowed hard as his eyes drifted down from my face to my chest, and his shoulders visibly slackened. He lay down beside me and wordlessly traced a hand up from my hip, hesitating when he reached the top of my waist and scanning my face for a reaction. I smiled, took his hand, and gently placed it on my breast. Glorfindel's breathing got deeper as he moved his free hand to my other breast and massaged my nipples between his fingers. They quickly grew hard under his ministrations.

I busied my hands with exploring his own delightful torso, running my fingers over his chest and down along the bumps of his abdominal muscles until I reached the tiny crop of hair just beneath his belly button.

Glorfindel hissed in pleasure, his hips bucking just a little as the bulge at the front of his trousers became extremely obvious.

I leaned over and looked down at him, finding myself getting sucked in by his wide, shimmering ocean eyes as he looked back up at me with open lust.

"Mmm?" I let my fingers wander up and down a few centimetres.

"You are… aaah…" he shuddered a little mid-sentence and seemed to exert some effort in resuming speaking, "extremely arousing, my love."

"Oh, really?" I murmured as I lowered my lips onto his. "What makes you say that, Glorfindel?" He gently kissed back, and his breaths got deeper and quicker.

Without a word, he opened his pants, picked up my hand that had been lingering nearby, and slipped it into his underwear, wrapping my fingers around his slick, rock-hard erection. He let out a moan as I slowly massaged him in my hand.

"Rh- Rhodri- if you keep that up, I will only last a few seconds more," he gasped, his face now covered in a small sheen of sweat.

I let go, my hand now decidedly slippery.

After a couple of seconds, Glorfindel had regained a few shreds of composure, and gently pushed me onto my back. "Besides which," he continued in a steadier voice now, "your pants are still conspicuously done up."

"Feel free to do something about that," I invited as I guided his hand onto the top button of my remaining garments.

A gentle smile flickered on his lips and he looked at me tenderly, unfastening my pants and slid his hand down my underwear. He bit his lip as he found what he was looking for, and started rubbing me lightly with his fingers. A groan came out of me before I could stop it, feeling arousal lick at my insides like flames.

"You are so warm and wet, Rhodri," Glorfindel breathed, shivering a little as he slipped a finger inside me and stroked me gently.

My back arched reflexively and I heard another vocalisation escape me. "All thanks to you," was all I could manage to get out.

"Much like you are behind my own situation," he replied as he raised his eyebrows at me, carefully reclaiming his finger and moving up until he was in line with my ear.

I would have thought that removing his finger would make me a little more coherent, but the desire only seemed to increase until I was fairly humming with it. As he slowly licked up my ear, the temptation grew too much, and I abandoned all attempts to play it cool.

"I want you so much, Glorfindel," I cried as I ripped him close and peppered his lips with tiny, entreating kisses. My arms and legs wrapped around him like vines, and his breath snagged as he melted into me, stroking my cheeks.

"And I want you, my Rhodri," he whispered between sharp intakes of air. He sat up and shed his pants, and I peeled my own off.

Glorfindel lay back down and gently draped himself over me, the sweat beading on his brow. He watched my face tenderly for a moment and drew me into a short kiss.

"Have me?" he murmured hoarsely.

I nodded. "Have me, too?"

He nodded back, and without taking his eyes off mine, carefully slid into me.

Glorfindel's body was pressed hard against mine, and I buried my face in his neck as he started moving in and out. His scent was intoxicating- that addictive smell of fresh air and sunshine, now mingled with the salt and heat of his sweat. I rested my hands on his firm buttocks and squeezed them gently as I guided him into a rhythm. He shuddered softly, letting the pace even out while he continued to bury himself in me.

Much in all as I loathe talk of souls binding during sex that one reads about in those preposterous penny dreadful romances, in this particular incidence, that is essentially what happened. The first sex act creates marriage through binding the fëar, and once it's complete, the bond is sealed permanently. The process itself, however, is slow (at least it is when you're in the middle of this sort of thing) and has a curious effect of being both energising and draining all at once. I knew I was tiring out, but it was outweighed by a surge of energy that grew the further we went.

As Glorfindel and I continued to move in synchrony, I noticed a small feeling of something pulling me toward him that wasn't coming from any external sources. In my mind's eye, I could see tiny, bright white threads coming out of me and reaching toward Glorfindel, and I observed similar threads emerging from Glorfindel and stretching toward me. One by one, the threads coming from Glorfindel anchored into me, and my own threads attached to him. The whole thing was ethereal, and I could have watched it with fascination all day, though I would arguably have concentrated on it much better had I not been in the throes of intimate pleasure.

The entire observation only lasted a second before I was thrown back into the heat of the moment. I could tell that Glorfindel was seeing it, too, because for a very short spell, his eyes had a faraway look, and I could have sworn I saw a hint of white reflecting in his eyes.

When he snapped back into it, Glorfindel let out a growl, pulled me into an aggressively hard kiss and sped up. I didn't have long to be surprised or wonder what was going on in his head, as the same feeling seemed to hit me shortly after.

The threads between us were tightening, shortening, closing the distance between us, and it filled me with a sense of urgency and intense protectiveness. We were almost bound at this point but still not quite. Any disruption from outside now would have been unbearably painful for both of us. Though the risk of interruption from outside was small, the perceived need to guard each other at this time while our fëar finished tethering was irrepressible.

Kissing back with equal roughness, I wrapped my legs around Glorfindel and pushed him harder and deeper inside me, feeling a cocktail of intense, overpowering pressure, tugging, and pleasure all filling my body as I did.

Glorfindel moaned into my mouth and sped up even more. "I can't hold on much longer," he whimpered softly.

"Neither can I," I gasped, the buildup of frenzied arousal spreading all the way out to my fingertips.

I saw the threads disappear as the gap between us closed completely. At that moment, something exploded internally, and I barely got out, "Oh- oh, I'm-" before I was rammed with the kind of pleasure that rendered my mind blank and body totally defenceless. I let out a cry and pulled Glorfindel to me tightly, the waves of gratification threatening to drown me as they inundated every sense.

Not half a second later, Glorfindel was hit by the same thing, letting out a loud, throaty moan as he spilled inside me, clinging me to him as closely as he could.

We lay still for a short while, sandwiched together and saying nothing. There was nothing to say that needed communicating that urgently, and even if there was, it would have to wait, because for the first time in thousands of years, I felt tired. Glorfindel eased himself off me and languidly curled up by my side, resting his head on my chest.

As sleepiness started to drag my eyes shut, I felt another train of thought come into my head out of nowhere. It was a series of indistinct murmurs and feelings that were similar to mine but I recognised as not my own.

Bleary-eyed, I quietly said, _"Hello, Glorfindel,"_ in my head, a lazy smile pulling up one corner of my mouth.

Glorfindel lifted his head to look at me, and without opening his mouth, I heard his own voice say in my head,_ "Hello, Rhodri."_ He blinked slowly as a warm, tired smile passed over his face. Seconds later, we were both sound asleep.


	30. The holiday?

**Author's note: **Thanks so much you fine bunch for all your lovely comments! I must apologise for my slackness of late, been a little unwell. But as always, I am of the firm belief that things can only get better from here! The best is yet to come :D Hope you all are drinking your water, doing your happy things, and staying as well as possible right now.  
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We didn't emerge from my quarters until mid-morning the next day, waking up in the same position we were in when we'd conked out the night before. I opened my eyes and felt relieved to be energised again; after having gone so long without feeling tired, irresistible though it was at the time, the exhaustion that had stolen me into unconsciousness had become quite foreign and retrospectively unpleasant.

Glorfindel stirred shortly after, lifting his head and turning over to face me. He rested his chin on my shoulder and looked dreamily up at me.

"Good morning, spouse," I said through a grin, jittering a little in excitement.

_"Ooh!"_ he trilled in delight as he shuffled up to eye level with me. "Spouse! Yes, indeed!" he said ecstatically as he planted kisses over my face.

After a handful of minutes in which we fangirled over our newly married status, we resolved to depart the bed and commence the long overdue start of the day.

"Ah, beloved," Glorfindel began after we had washed, starting to pull on his tunic, "I wonder if you might retrieve a set of robes for me from my quarters." He gestured at the robe he had worn yesterday, and I laughed.

"Gladly," I replied with a nod, "but I must say, I am astonished that the walk of shame would exist here when you consider that the purpose of our nuptials was essentially to announce to the populace we were going to bed each other."

Glorfindel went silent, his eyes wide. "My goodness, when you put it like that, you're quite right."

"Even so, though, I'll return shortly," I said, still tittering to myself as I left him standing there, tapping his lips pensively.

When I returned with a set of lavender robes and Glorfindel finished dressing, we made our way to the kitchens to see if any of the chefs would take pity on us slugabeds and favour us with a morsel or two of food.

We were about to knock on the door when we heard the footsteps of someone hurtling down the corridor in our direction. Looking up, we caught sight of what appeared to be one of Legolas' right-hand Elves. I vaguely remembered her from my visits to Mirkwood. Though we never spoke much, she was always a very personable, relaxed type, so to see her running like this was odd, to say the least.

"Sidhiel! My goodness, what's wrong?" I asked as she stopped dead in front of us.

"I seek Prince Legolas," she said between gasps. I was shocked. Elves did not tire readily, so she must have been running for days on end to be panting like this.

"We'll take you to him," Glorfindel said quickly, and the three of us beetled off to check the places he was most likely to be. He was in none of them. We decided to try Elrond's study, running into Legolas on the way there. He was walking unhurriedly with Bregedúr, Elrond, Celebrían, and Olórin, and when he saw Sidhiel running over to him, his expression quickly morphed from a smile into a look of confusion.

"Sidhiel? What are you doing in Imladris?" he asked her when she reached him.

"Your Highness, Amon Lanc- an evil presence has taken over it."

There was a moment of horror-struck silence. Amon Lanc, the capital of Oropher's (now Thranduil's) realm, lay at the southern border of the forest. Though it lay a goodly distance from Mordor, separated by the vast Brown Lands, it wasn't a large enough distance for my liking.

Legolas asked Elrond, "Could we possibly avail ourselves of a less public space?"

"Of course," said Elrond, gesturing in the direction of his study. "Please go ahead to the study."

Legolas nodded in thanks, and said, "I think this is news you all should hear, so if you have the time, perhaps we should proceed together."

After a sudden influx of nods from all present, we entered the study and sat down. Elrond passed Sidhiel some water, which she took gratefully and drained in seconds before launching into her report.

According to Sidhiel, the entire population of Amon Lanc had been displaced within a day. She had little information to offer as to exactly what sort of culprit made up the evil presence. Only that its apparent name was the Necromancer, a moniker which inspired as much confidence as a ponzi scheme brochure. Where it came from or whom it was associated with (if anyone) was not mentioned, though I got an Occam's Razor-esque hunch that Sauron was at the helm in some way or another. That close to Mordor, with nothing else around, and Sauron's been at the heart of the discontent around here for thousands of years? I mean, gee.

The latest report she had to pass along from Thranduil was that all the residents had abandoned the place and fled to the northwest, along the Forest River that separated the top quarter of the forest from the lower parts.

Nothing was said for a moment, as everyone presumably started thinking of what to do. An event like this had so many wide-ranging consequences that it was hard to know where to begin with it.

Bregedúr and Legolas, naturally, had to depart immediately. Before they left, we had decided on two things: first, to send assistance in the form of food and building supplies (and, incidentally, troops)- in instalments only, so that we could be sure that any hostile forces loitering around wouldn't take the lot. Second, to form a group to consult with Galadriel and Celeborn, due to Lothlórien's proximity to Amon Lanc.

Within minutes, Bregedúr and Legolas had left with Sidhiel.

Elrond looked at Celebrían. "I imagine we should be the ones to go to your mother and father." She nodded, and then Elrond glanced at Glorfindel and me. "I am sorry to ask this of you immediately after your wedding, you two," he said in a regretful tone, "but you are both very valued advisors-"

"Say no more," said Glorfindel holding up a hand and smiling. "Of course we will attend."

"We wouldn't have it any other way," I affirmed, nodding happily.

"I wonder," piped up Olórin, "if I might also be allowed to come. I intend to make for the Gap of Rohan while the weather is fine, and it would be well to know what risks await."

Seemed legit.

We agreed to depart together early the next morning. That gave us just enough time to hurriedly arrange for the relief.

By next morning, we'd gotten the ball rolling enough that we felt confident enough to depart, leaving the ever-capable Erestor in charge to keep things running smoothly.

I was rather excited to be travelling to Lothlórien and also vaguely surprised that after having lived this long, I still hadn't ever been there before. I travelled on official business much less than others did, mostly because I was loath to leave the clinic for too long. This meant that my time off usually took the form of camping trips in places less than a week's ride from Imladris. On this occasion, though, I had no option but to depart, so I figured I might as well enjoy myself.

The five of us journeyed at a fairly brisk pace, sharing quiet relief that this was all happening in early summer, since it meant that the Pass of Caradhras would still be traversable on the way back. Cold comfort to the Elves of Thranduil's realm, no doubt, but for us, it was a small mercy.

Around the halfway mark, we started seeing evidence of the 'presence' Sidhiel had mentioned earlier.

"Does anyone else see that slight discolouration out there?" I asked as I pointed in the direction of Amon Lanc, where a blip of grey, barely bigger than a grain of sand, floated on the horizon.

Everyone but Olórin squinted as they focused where I was indicating.

"Mmm," murmured Olórin, with a nod glancing at me uneasily.

"Barely," said Celebrían, Elrond and Glorfindel mumbling some sort of assent.

I heaved a worried sigh that it was visible from so far away and we rode on.

Over the next days, the grain of sand grew into the size of a small coin, which then became a whole banknote. The greyness didn't so much obscure Amon Lanc like mist, but more dyed the sky around it like a monochrome aurora borealis. Whatever was in there, it was seriously nasty.

When we were some 50 kilometres from the forest one night, I sat up with Olórin and chatted quietly, the others sound asleep.

_"I am sure Sauron is behind this,"_ I said to him quietly in Valarin as we sat cross-legged near the glowing remains of our campfire. I glanced out at the dark grey light, which contrasted against the violet evening sky like death on velvet. It was the first time I had ever uttered that to someone, and I felt my lip curl in disgust as I said his name.

_"We cannot be sure,"_ he replied heavily, gently prodding an ember with a stick.

I frowned at him. _"No, not entirely,"_ I conceded, _"but all the same, I am as certain as I can be."_

_"Do not be in a hurry to dive into conflict with whatever—or whoever—this is, Rhodri,"_ Olórin warned, failing to keep the hint of nervousness out of his voice.

_"Do you say that to keep me from being rash, Olórin, or to comfort yourself with the idea this is a smaller foe with less power?"_ I asked with a small smile.

Olórin smiled back. _"I say it with the belief that we are probably both right,"_ he said grimly.

_"Well, what would you call a reasonable waiting period, then?"_ I prompted. _"Almost the entire population of Mirkwood has been made internally displaced. At what point do we draw the line?"_

He sighed. _"I do not know,"_ he responded. _"I have a feeling the time will present itself soon enough, but I am certain it is not now."_

We looked at each other for a moment, saying nothing. I was dissatisfied with Olórin's answer, and I could see in his face that he was, too. As if we had shared the thought, we both nodded. The conversation having reached a natural end, I nodded goodnight to him, which he returned and got up.

I went over to Glorfindel and lay down beside him. The tiny noise of the shifting grass roused him just enough to turn over and drape his arm over me, resting his head on my chest. I glanced out at the grey disturbance in the distance (Amon Lanc, so we're clear, not Olórin), then down at my peacefully sleeping spouse, and allowed myself to wrap my arms around him and nod off.

The next day passed without anything remarkable until the late afternoon, just before we were to set up camp. Olórin saw him first, a way off the path out to the right.

"Curumo!" he shouted out, waving to him.

I had been watching the river, playing a game of spot-the-fish with Celebrían, but by god, I looked up sharply now to see the irksome prick I had thought we were well and truly shot of for the next few centuries, riding a white horse.

"Wanker," I muttered under my breath.

"What is a wanker?" asked Celebrían, looking at me curiously as Curumo returned Olórin's wave and we rode over to meet him (naturally, he would never have deigned to come to us). Glorfindel had turned around now, too, and was keen to learn a new word.

"It's a term of respect for the head wizard of a group," I said offhandedly, willing myself with every fibre in my body not to roar with laughter. Fortunately, they did not ask any further questions as we stopped in front of said wanker/head wizard.

"Olórin, greetings," Curumo said with a nod of the head. Olórin looked much more pleased to see him than vice versa. He displayed a little more interest, however, when Elrond and Celebrían were introduced as the Lord and Lady of Imladris.

"Very well met, my Lord, my Lady," he inclined his head with a deference that forced me to swallow back a gag.

"Curumo, have you any news of Amon Lanc?" Olórin asked, gesturing out at the blight out on the horizon.

"I have not," he replied, seeming a little displeased that he was talking with Olórin and not simpering at Elrond and Celebrían. "I had been travelling north for some time and was due to go even further up, but some people I had met on the way spoke frequently of a disturbance in the south-east, and so I changed direction to inspect what it was they spoke of."

Uh oh. If there was one thing I didn't want, it was for Curumo to start trying to get into Sauron's pants. Not this early into the piece, and especially not when Curumo, according to Olórin, was extremely powerful. An alliance like that now would have done damage that I shuddered to think of.

"In which case, Curumo," I spoke up, "perhaps you should come with us first. We are making for the woods of Lothlórien, where we shall seek counsel from the Lady Galadriel. It would be most foolhardy to rush into anything with whatever dwells at Amon Lanc at present."

Olórin glanced at me and I knew I'd hear about doling out his advice as though it were my own later on. I watched Curumo carefully, awaiting his reply. I hoped that I had painted him into a corner; he was keen not to appear the ignoramus. Making it seem as though doing anything but allow himself to be waylaid by us was sheer folly would hopefully make him feel obliged.

"I see," Curumo said, his face expressionless. He paused a moment as if weighing his options before nodding, and said, "Yes, very well. In which case, I shall accompany you."

With that, we hit the path again, and I said nothing more until we reached Lothlórien late that night. We were met by Haldir at the edge of the forest, who took us through the trees to Caras Galadhon, which had to be the most surreal place I had seen to date.

Illuminated in the light of the full moon was a huge hill covered entirely by trees, which looked like a colossal, leafy beehive. The closer we drew to it, I could see tiny beams of a gentle but penetrating turquoise light coming out through the gaps between the leaves.

Oh, but actually entering the beehive. My breath was robbed when I stepped inside. The networks of mallorn trees that had been trained and carved out to form stairs, walkways, rooms, and balconies were stunning—it all outdid the beauty and majesty of Thranduil's halls by a factor of ten. The source of light at this time of the evening seemed to emanate from the flowers that sprang up everywhere, whose petals glowed with otherworldly bioluminescence. Many of the Elves were clothed in white, and most had silver hair, which shimmered like starlight as they strolled gently about.

We were led up a staircase that wrapped around the largest tree in the place and seemed to go on forever. It was enclosed in white, carved lattice work that would have taken anyone but the Elves a lifetime to complete.

"Greetings, Rhodri," I heard a familiar voice in my head. I smiled gently. Though we never really sat down alone for a chat (they were usually busy with Elrond when visiting Rivendell), I liked Galadriel and Celeborn very much.

"Hello, Galadriel," I responded happily. "Nice to speak with you again. My apologies for the lack of notice. Beautiful place you have here, by the way."

I heard a small laugh, and then all was silent except for the noise of us climbing the stairs.

Eventually, we reached the top where Galadriel and Celeborn awaited us, their soft smiles and friendly greetings making their already light features all the brighter. An ease seemed to settle over the rest of us after that, except for Curumo, who seemed only more fascinated and energised than ever in the glance I stole at him.

When we all sat down together and started conversing, it became rapidly apparent that Celeborn (who, curiously, did most of the talking) and Galadriel knew much—even more, in fact—than what we had heard from Sidhiel. In the time between the invasion and now, a new name had already been given to Amon Lanc: Dol Guldur, the hill of dark sorcery. I started internally telling myself off for constantly looking at Curumo, but I couldn't help it. He reacted, albeit subtly, at the mention of dark sorcery. He asked questions occasionally, but not too often. I worried that he was starting to pick up on his own behaviours and was fine-tuning them to create a more plausible façade of innocence.

I didn't want to ask any questions that would only fuel his curiosity, so I remained silent throughout the discussion. It was apparently a rather conspicuous silence, though, because Celeborn spoke up as the conversation started to draw to a close.

"What say you about all of this, Rhodri? You have not spoken more than a few words since arriving," he asked, watching me closely. The eyes of everyone went onto me, and I was not pleased to be put on the spot like that.

"I do not know enough about the topic to say more than a few words, my Lord," I said respectfully.

I glanced up at Galadriel, who was looking at me with even more scrutiny than her husband. Her jewel-blue eyes scanned me with an almost childlike curiosity, and without even speaking in my head, I made it clear to her that I wished to speak with her alone later. One quick blink later, and I knew she had understood.

Celeborn looked dissatisfied with my answer. "Surely you must have an opinion on it one way or another."

I let out a puff of air as I cracked my knuckles. I did not want to reveal too many of my thoughts about Sauron at the moment, and his name had not been mentioned thus far, so I had to structure my ideas in a way that concealed it.

"Well, certainly," I answered. "I think that at present, we know too little to make any sort of a move we could be entirely confident in. Personally, I would like to ascertain levels of risk through a short period of observation, relying on reports from Thranduil's forces alone to see what this Necromancer intends to do next. I would not advise that Lothlórien or any others send scouts or forces to investigate, otherwise this will put our interest on open display. Nor should Lothlórien send any special assistance, because of the proximity to Dol Guldur, where such activity would inevitably be noticed and possibly waylaid."

This answer seemed more pleasing to him. With the exception of Curumo, who watched me with that same expressionlessness as before, the others appeared to agree with my watered-down opinion.

The talks drew to a close shortly after, and at Celeborn's invitation, the ground started to make its way to the dining hall for refreshments before bed.

"Go on ahead," I said to Glorfindel quietly. "I'll join you a little later."

He smiled at me warmly, nodded, and with a gentle touch on my shoulder, stepped out with the others, leaving me and Galadriel sitting by ourselves.

For a minute or two, we said nothing as we waited for the sound of footsteps to disappear completely.

"I appreciate you waiting, Lady Galadriel," I said when I was sure we were alone.

She watched me in fascination. "I could not read your heart," she said quietly. I chortled inwardly. Being unable to look it the minds of others was not something Galadriel, perhaps the most gifted of any Elf in ósanwë and divination, was accustomed to.

"I couldn't afford to let my thoughts be accessible at that point," I admitted. "One among us, I do not trust, but I have complete confidence in you."

Galadriel looked thoroughly intrigued now. "You are not what you seem, Rhodri."

"You're half right," I said with a laugh. "I am as foolish as I look, but you are correct in that my appearance is not wholly authentic. It is for your own safety and comfort that I assume this form, though."

"A Maia," she murmured under her breath, giving me another once-over with her eyes.

"Indeed. Vinyaten was my name, but I would appreciate it if you continued to call me Rhodri. Share the information with Celeborn as you wish, but keep it secret beyond that, if you please."

She nodded quietly, waiting for me to speak further.

"I did not say everything I wished to at that meeting, and I will not be open as long as Curumo is present," I began. Galadriel watched me placidly, and I began explaining my conjectures about Sauron's role at Dol Guldur and Curumo's dangerous fascination in the occult practices.

"For now," I said, "I do not think Curumo is harmful, or even has openly bad intentions, but only because he has not had a chance to indulge his curiosity in the evil arts yet. Once he does, I believe it will pose incredible risk to all of us." I didn't say anything more for a moment as I let her take it all in.

She blinked serenely, and then nodded a little. "In which case, we must keep him close, but also at arm's length. Perhaps his behaviour will change."

"We can hope," I conceded, "but it seems unlikely. I think you're absolutely right, though, that we watch him closely and tie him up in our plans to an extent. With any luck, it will at least buy us time to prepare should he turn on us."

"Indeed," she mused. There followed another long silence in which she glanced at me once or twice.

"Something troubles you," I broached.

"It does, but it is not concerning this—not entirely, at least," Galadriel answered slowly. "Celebrían told me some time ago of your counsel for her nails."

I glanced down at her fingers, which looked perfectly fine, and caught myself wondering if she was battling a toenail-biting habit.

"If you think you might like to speak with me in my capacity as a psychologist, let's have a quick chat about how I keep things private and what you can expect of me first," I said. She accepted, after which I started to tell her about ethics and confidentiality. About one minute into my explanation, I noticed she had zoned out.

"Lady Galadriel?" I waved a little, and she snapped back into it, nodding quickly. This was very out of character for her. In my experience, she had always been very switched on and inclined to be a healthy participant in conversations. Naturally, people have their off days from time to time. To be quiet all night was one thing, and I knew my Ts and Cs spiel was boring, but for such a private person, that she had suddenly spaced out was curious, to say the least.

"I need to be sure that you understand the conditions under which I provide my services before I can proceed, so don't be afraid to stop me if you need a moment to process what I'm saying."

We continued through the disclosure with one more pause, after which Galadriel signed the dotted line (I had taken to carrying blank forms in my backpack these days).


	31. The Red-Faced Council

**Author's note: ** Hello hello! I'm not sure how many folks read the **Psych Notes** section, but I'm adding in a little subsection called **Differential** **Diagnosis **to talk about why the other disorders could be ruled out, rather than just present you with a laundry list of symptoms. If you're not keen on it, do let me know, otherwise I think I'll just leave it as is.

thegreysnark: Oh dude thanks so much! Your comment made my day. I love making people laugh more than anything, so I'm really happy I could do that! :D

"So tell me what's on your mind," I said.

"You already see the problem," Galadriel replied, looking at me curiously.

"I have my own perspective," I gently countered. "I want to hear what you think is the issue."

I waited as she sat a moment, seeming to comb through her thoughts for relevant information.

"I… am tired," she finally said.

I nodded. "In the sense that you are having physically worn out, or is it more a mental fatigue?"

"Both."

"Are you having difficulty sleeping?"

She nodded a little. "I find it hard to fall asleep."

"How often would you say that you have a bad night's sleep?"

"Most nights, these days," she admitted. Upon seeing my interested face, she added, "it has been going on for some years now, but to start with, it was only one night on occasion, and has since grown to what it is now."

"I see," I said. "Did something suddenly set this off—an incident that gave you a bad shock, perhaps?"

"No," she answered as she shook her head. "It has been very gradual. It seems to be worsening alongside the evil that grows in the east."

"The loss of sleep is not what troubles me, though," she continued.

"Oh?"

"I have started to lose interest in my duties as the Lady of Lothlórien. Matters concerning the realm do not seem to capture my mind as they used to. I reflexively make the right decisions, but my heart is cold throughout."

Stress is a strange beast. Studies abound extolling the virtues of a minor case of nerves when taking a test or playing a game. A moderate, or even severe amount in the short term can be a normal response to an upsetting event, and can send all of one's feelings into overdrive. When it gets to an extreme level however, be it in dose or length, it can have the curious effect of numbing us completely. A buildup of stress over a period of many years, imaginably, is a recipe for disaster. I had an inkling of what the problem could be, but there was a lot to rule out first.

"How are you doing in other aspects of your life?" I asked. "Social, personal, that sort of thing."

Galadriel sighed. "Well enough, I suppose. I still enjoy playing the harp and meeting with others, but I feel guilty for indulging in such things when I can scarcely take an interest in my work, which I know is suffering."

"Tell me a bit about how your work is suffering."

"You saw it for yourself," said Galadriel irritably. "Celeborn did most of the talking for me today. This has been happening ever-increasingly of late. I cannot concentrate, and I seem to have no solutions to problems like I usually do, so I cannot lead like I should."

The annoyance in her voice started to grow. "Now, all my energy is spent simply maintaining the usual protections of Lothlórien, never mind whatever we might need now that this Necromancer has invaded Dol Guldur! There is hardly any point in even continuing to hide the place at this rate!"

I nodded and stayed quiet in case she had any more to add. She seemed to be on a roll now. But instead, she closed her eyes in frustration.

"Forgive me, Rhodri, my temper is a little harder to keep under control than usual," she said in a reluctant but genuine tone.

"I don't take it personally. You can shout if you like, it's perfectly fine," I said with a smile. "Tell me, do you find yourself feeling sad very often these days with the advent of this lack of interest in the job?"

Galadriel shook her head. "Not especially. My work is draining, but I am not saddened by it- merely exhausted. I fantasise a little of fleeing Lothlórien and starting afresh in somewhere like Mithlond or Edhellond and find myself getting frustrated about having to continue my duties here when I cannot-" she paused and clapped a hand over her mouth, looking shocked that she had said such a thing.

"It is important to be honest with yourself, Galadriel," I reminded her reassuringly. "You will not reach a solution if you pretend the problem doesn't exist. And just because you don't feel like doing what's expected of you doesn't mean that you're actually shirking your duties."

Galadriel chewed her lip as she considered my words.

"What about feeling fearful or nervous?" I continued. "Are your worries at the forefront of your mind all the time?"

"I… do not suppose so, no," mused Galadriel.

"I worry at times that I am not properly caring for the realm, but it is nothing I dwell on for too long because I simply force myself to work harder. For now, that seems to work well enough, but I do worry there will come a point that that will no longer be effective."

That ruled out a depressive episode and an anxiety disorder, both of which can often cause sleeping problems, irritability, concentration issues and impact how well one does one's job. But Galadriel was still able to enjoy herself when she was away from the job side of things, and worries weren't invading all of her working moments.

To me, this sounded like occupational burnout: the emotional exhaustion that comes with working too hard. The term is looked upon like a buzzword, but I had seen far too much of it to even entertain the idea that it didn't exist, even if it wasn't to be found in the DSM-5, psychology's equivalent of the Bible.

"You know, Galadriel," I said to her, "it sounds like your job as the overseer of Lothlórien is really starting to wear you down."

Galadriel's body tensed up and she looked up at me sharply, offence written all over her face.

"Hey, look," I said, holding up my hands in a peacekeeping gesture, "I didn't say you can't do it. It's a big job that would tire anyone out. I doubt any other Elf could single-handedly run the place nearly as well as you do. What I think is affecting you is something called burnout, and it can happen to anyone."

That seemed to placate her a little. Her shoulders relaxed a smidge, but she watched me like she was waiting for me to say "but."

"What I think might help," I went on, "is having a look at how you're handling this, because you and I both know that your workload is about to get enormous, especially as this evil to the east grows, as it no doubt will. Think of this as an efficiency session."

Galadriel nodded stiffly. I had heard stories of her earlier days, and apparently she was something of a vainglorious sort in her youth. Not that anyone could really blame her. She was an exceptionally talented person, famed for her bravery, intelligence, beauty and power. So far as I could see, she had every reason to be pleased with herself. Although it seemed her pride had tempered over the years, it was clear it had still far from disappeared.

"Now, let's have a talk about personal characteristics first so we know what we're working with. Tell me a little bit about what you expect of yourself as the Lady of Lorien."

"I expect to be able to keep my realm and people safe and free from the influence of Sauron and his allies," she said without stopping to think. I nodded.

"How much of that do you expect to do by your own labours? Surely the running of a realm is a group task."

"There is much that only I can do," Galadriel replied, softly raising one eyebrow as she fixed me with a mysterious smile.

"I am sure of that, but what I want to establish is whether or not you are taking on more work than you need to. Part of being a successful leader is having delegation down to a fine art."

Her eyebrow was now arched, and the indignation was back on her face, quick as ever. Even with the way I had phrased it, she assumed I was taking a jab at her ability to successfully keep her realm afloat. She had spent so long proving herself that she was anxious not to display any sign of weakness. And yet she had come to me to seek counsel. This had to be a sign that some small desire for change was there.

"Delegation is not a show of diminished ability, Galadriel," I said mildly. "It is simply another exercise of authority with efficiency in mind. People love their home here and will naturally be willing to accept extra responsibility during more urgent times. Have a think for a moment about your situation. How many advisors do you have?"

There was a small flash in Galadriel's eyes as she seemed to tighten the reins on her temper. After a moment, she said, "None presently."

I was shocked. "Do… do you mean you have been handling the workload of making huge decisions _alone _this entire time?"

Galadriel nodded, a small, triumphant smile curving up the sides of her mouth.

"Why would you _do_ that to yourself?" The question was out before I could stop it, and I felt rather embarrassed at having departed from my usual, professional manner.

It had an interesting effect, though: Galadriel's smile faltered and she looked a little surprised, hurt even, that I had registered displeasure rather than admiration.

"_Do_ to myself?" she repeated. "It is in my power to handle these things, so why would I not oversee them?"

"Just because you _can,_ doesn't mean you _should,"_ I enunciated. "There are only so many hours in the day, Galadriel, and you are only one person— an exceptional person, to be sure," I added quickly, "but all the same, this is not a healthy approach to your work. You are not doing yourself or anyone in your realm any favours by only leaving these things to yourself. What do you do when you have to travel?"

"I make long-term plans and prepare for a variety of contingencies, and I use ósanwë when I need to speak with a particular person," she answered in a calm but stubborn tone.

I sighed. "Galadriel, I'm going to be very upfront with you here. Burnout is a serious issue, and unless you do something to fix it now, it will only get worse. Not just for you, but everyone. You will become exhausted, and you will not be able to protect yourself of others when they need you the most. I understand that you feel responsible for the wellbeing of your people, but the way you force yourself to work cannot go on in this manner. And that you came to me tonight shows that you know this."

Galadriel swallowed hard and looked down at her hands, trying to appear distracted as she wrung them so hard I worried she might de-glove herself. I pressed on.

"Right now, I would say that this is the perfect time to start making changes. People already know that something is wrong. Celeborn is suddenly doing all the talking and organising because he is aware that you are suffering. And you know," I said gently as I leaned a little closer to her, "Now is the perfect time to take action without losing face. Find three people you trust and tell them that with these troubling times ahead, you will be very busy handling new threats and will need someone to keep an eye on other things. No sensible person will accuse you of laziness or ineptitude for doing the right thing. And believe me, Galadriel, this is the right thing to do."

With what must have been a colossal effort, she tore her eyes away from her hands and looked up at me, and for once, her features were not shrouded in mysteriousness. Instead, she looked wounded and insecure, her eyes still faintly glittering with anger.

"Now, what about a support system?" I continued. "Whom do you speak with when your work becomes stressful?"

"Celeborn," she said quietly.

"Are you completely honest and open with him about how you feel?"

"Not… entirely."

"Well, that should change, too. He is your _spouse,_ Galadriel. If you can't trust him with your feelings, you can't trust anyone. He cares about you, and I can see that he worries for you. I am sure that such a small thing as listening to you speak about your worries is something he would jump at the chance to do if it could make a difference. Don't bottle all this up."

Now a tiny blush reddened her cheeks. Elves were by nature a fairly private people, but Galadriel was particularly tight-lipped, especially when it came to Celeborn.

"And, of course, you can always talk to me. I'm available by ósanwë at any time," I added with a small smile.

Galadriel nodded once, not looking at me as her brows knitted.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," I prompted.

"I know where I must begin, but I hate to do it," she uttered reluctantly.

"Why do you hate to do it?"

"I feel… diminished," Galadriel whispered.

"Are the Valar any less diminished for having Maiar? Is Elrond less of a Lord for having Glorfindel, Erestor, and I as his counsellors?"

"No—no, of course not," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Why are you holding yourself to a higher standard than Ilúvatar holds the Valar, then?" I asked, looking at her solicitously. "They don't need any sleep at all, and they still have handfuls of advisors and helpers each. If you want an idea of what you should expect of yourself, think of what you would expect of Thranduil and Elrond. That's about how much you should do. Irrespective of how powerful you are, you deserve to be happy and enjoy a life outside of work."

She seemed mollified by that, and her face slowly lost its anger and pain as it slipped into its more usual serene countenance.

I nodded to myself. This seemed like a good start. With that, I took out a pen and paper and started writing down a list of instructions for her- _3 advisors, talk to trusted people, expect of self what you would expect of Thranduil/Elrond- set limits!_

"Whose Maia are you, Rhodri?" she asked. Normally I wouldn't have let clients change the subject by asking about me, but the session was essentially over which meant I'd slide back into acquaintance/friend status again with immediate effect.

"Before I answer that," I said as I handed her the list, "Take this, put these into action over the next two weeks, and then we'll touch base again and see how you're going, all right?"

Galadriel took the list with a smile, read it and nodded. "Two weeks. Very well." She looked at me, awaiting my answer as the curiosity stirred her face out of its neutrality.

"From what I have heard, Tulkas was my Vala, but then Irmo wanted to teach me as well. It seems that the conflict that arose between them was irreconcilable, and so Manwë asked Ilúvatar to send me elsewhere until they could sort their squabbles out."

I paused a moment, then shrugged. "I cannot seem to recall any of my life in Valinor, however, so it is possible I am wrong, though I very much doubt it. My memories really only begin with my life in London."

"Curious," she murmured, running a finger over her lips contemplatively.

"Quite," I agreed. "Again, I do not want this information to reach Curumo, so please keep it between yourself and Celeborn for now."

The other reason I did not want word of my history getting out to him was because I in no way wanted him to know of my life in London. Though the vanishment, as I called it, had happened a long time ago, it quite rightly remained a sore spot, and I didn't want to give Curumo an inch of leverage over me.

I only had to give Galadriel, who already knew my backstory, one knowing glance, and she comprehended immediately. She nodded and touched her hand to her heart in a display of sincerity. I smiled appreciatively.

"Come," she said as she stood up. "They will be wondering what has become of us."

I wasn't sure if she was referring to the whole group, or if she was alluding to Curumo getting suspicious, or perhaps even making some humorous reference to the famed clinginess of newlyweds. Hell, at that point she could have been suggesting a great white shark was lurking downstairs waiting to eat me and I wouldn't have cared, because I knew food was waiting for me downstairs, and I had been battling monstrous bread cravings for days. I followed her out gladly.

I was not disappointed. Evidently, one or more of my travelling companions had either noticed and/or grown incredibly tired of my waxing lyrical about fresh bread en route to Lothlórien, because on the plate that had apparently been saved for me, there sat half a loaf of bread, still warm to the touch.

"Is that… all for me?" I asked nobody in particular, salivating like one of Pavlov's dogs in a bell factory as I breathed in the delicious, yeasty smell.

"Oh, yes," said Celeborn with a nod. "We have all eaten our fill, and Galadriel, as you see, has her own plate of food."

I clapped my hands in joy and took my seat beside Glorfindel. Bread and Glorfindel. Magnificent. I cut myself a slice and bread and Rhodri were united at last.

"Are you well, Rhodri?" asked Curumo from down the table in a would-be benign voice. I swallowed my mouthful, willing myself not to beat this bastard to death for interrupting this splendid gastronomic moment with his ill-intentioned obsequiousness.

"Mighty fine, thanks," I replied in a mock-cheery tone, forcing a smile as I held up my half-eaten treasure. "Got bread."

"You were gone an awfully long time," Curumo pressed. "I worried for your wellbeing." This remark got him a look or two from the others at the table, but he seemed not to notice. I sighed inwardly; this had to be the most pathetic attempt at nosiness I had ever encountered. Naturally, I had to make up something to protect Galadriel's confidentiality, and I didn't want to mention the Bib-and-Brace Club in case he started bugging me to let him join. I decided it was best to give an awkward answer and embarrass him.

"Yes, well, apparently there's no short answer when explaining where babies come from, but I very much appreciate that the Lady Galadriel took the time to sit down with me and answer my questions," I returned with compelled off-handedness. "Here was I thinking they just came down with the rain. But now I know, and I tell you what, women get a pretty bad deal out of this," I shook my head, eyes wide as though I had just seen something that could never be un-seen.

Glorfindel snorted loudly, Elrond closed his eyes in horror, and the rest of the table bit their lips, suppressing the urge to laugh as Curumo glared at me and turned scarlet, evidently much less pleased with my answer than I was.

"And there was no better time to ask than now?" he sneered. Man, he really wasn't letting go of this. The others watching this unfold like it was a tennis game, eyes darting from one person to the other and back again as the ridiculousness went on.

"I'm over 2700 years old," I said in a rather blasé tone. "I suppose there comes a point where allowing that level of ignorance to persist becomes almost criminal. Look, honestly, I'm still in shock over the whole thing, so I'd rather not dwell on it, if it's all the same to you."

That brought the conversation to an abrupt halt, after which I got to destroy my bread in peace while Elrond, bless his poor, mortified heart, steered the topic back to trade deals with Gondor. By the time I had demolished my entire half loaf, everyone else was ready to retire for the evening.

"What was going on back there?" Glorfindel asked with a chuckle when we were alone in our own sleeping chamber.

"Oh, Galadriel figured out I'm a Maia," I replied, omitting any mention of our psychological session that had preceded it. "She was intensely curious about it, and I thought it best to fill her in, especially since Celeborn was rather suspicious of me this evening. Seemed best not to let Curumo in on that little snippet, though."

He nodded. "Yes, I did notice that. He put you in a rather difficult place, what with your concerns about Curumo."

I raised my eyebrows in agreement. "Barely got out by the skin of my teeth there. I'll be glad when Curumo takes himself elsewhere, that's for certain."

Glorfindel smirked. "I think Elrond will be, too, after tonight's table talk."

We both erupted into a quiet but intense belly laugh.

"I hope my ridiculous lie didn't cause you any offence, by the way," I said when I got my breath back.

"Not at all," he said with a smile. "I found it extremely amusing."  
"I wonder, though," he said, biting his lip a little, "if you wouldn't mind recapping with me. You know, just to be absolutely certain I know what to do when we want children of our own." His eyes sparkled as his smile grew into a devilish grin.

"That sounds like an excellent plan," I said in as clinical a tone as I could muster while hurriedly taking off my clothes. "I think it will take a lot of intense practice, but at some point we should be proficient enough…"

**Psych Notes (cw: contains in-depth description of depressive symptoms, including su*cide)**

**Occupational burnout**

Occupational burnout does not feature in the DSM-5. It is, however, listed in the International Classification of Diseases (ICD-10), which is a global standard list of health and medical problems. There is a lot of squabbling about what sort of disorder it is (and indeed whether it is a 'real' disorder), what its symptoms are, and how to go about diagnosing and treating it. The person who originally coined the term, one Herbert J. Freudenberger, stipulated three main criteria:  
\- Exhaustion (physical and emotional, which manifests in such ways as apathy, irritation, physical fatigue, poor sleep, poor temper control, and poor concentration)  
\- Cynicism: in this case, cynicism refers to general dissatisfaction with one's job, identifying with it less, taking less of an interest in it, feeling disengaged  
\- Reduced professional ability: job performance drops because you are less able to carry out your tasks as well as you did before (usually because of the first two points)

**Differential diagnoses**

Some argue that burnout is a form of depression. Others say it's its own thing. Others still reckon it more closely imitates PTSD because of how the brain reacts. And of course, I'm going to get my money's worth from my psych degree by chipping in my own opinion: I think it's probably in its own category for now, but it could fit in as a part of a disorder called adjustment disorder (essentially a temporary form of major depression) if it were allowed to grow very severe.

In Galadriel's case, what Rhodri wanted to rule out were major depression and anxiety because of these symptoms which can occur in both disorders as well as burnout: poor concentration, irritability, apathy/numbness, feeling stressed, poor sleep, tiredness, and doing worse at work.

In depression, these symptoms are compounded by what singles depression out: very low mood most or all of the time, OR a loss of interest in things that are usually enjoyable. Galadriel admitted to being a little sad from time to time when she realised she couldn't just chuck it and go live at the beach, but given her workload, being sad a fantasy can't come true is perfectly reasonable. Rhodri was then able to exclude the loss of interest criteria because Galadriel said she still enjoyed playing the harp and socialising- when she could find the time for it.  
To describe the hallmark features of depression, we can look at happiness and sadness as existing on a scale of -100 (suicidally unhappy) to +100 (dangerously, recklessly happy). A clinically average range would probably sit at around sadness low of -40 (e.g. dropping lunch on the floor), high of +50 (e.g. payrise!), and neutral of around +10, maybe +15 (sitting on the bus). In major depression for the same events, these averages would be more around a sadness low of -85 (lower if more severe), high of 10, and neutral of about -10, maybe -15 or lower if more severe.

As for anxiety, Galadriel is nowhere near the right level of fearfulness for that. She is not overwhelmed with worries, for example, that Sauron is going to invade out of nowhere, take over the realm, and make a lampshade out of Celeborn's skin. She feels a sense of foreboding now and then (fair, when there is at least a small risk that Sauron will invade, take over, and do the lampshade deed), but she is able to control it and shift it out of the forefront of her mind when she wants to, which is something that people with anxiety disorders cannot do.  
If we examined anxiety and relaxation on the same scale as the depression one, we could set -100 as comatose and +100 as nonstop screaming. A clinically average range might have a relaxed level of -55 (after work changing into comfy pants) and an anxious high of around +45 (running late for work), with an average of 0 to +10 (walking to the shops).  
The anxiety patient will have averages more like these for those events: relaxed: -10, anxious: +85 (perhaps higher), average: +25 to +40

If you feel any of these things describe you and you are able, please speak with your doctor. If you are having difficulty accessing services, please do not hesitate to reach out to me and I will try to help you find available online or government subsidised services in your country. You are important, and life does not have to be this way.


	32. You're bugging me!

**Author's note**: CW for today is in-depth writing about psychotic disorders, so please take care if you're sensitive to that sort of bizzo. Please drink your water, take your medications if you need to, and be gentle with yourself!

FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff: When I was in North America, I had some bread in a restaurant and it kind of tasted a little bit like sweet yoghurt! Now I wonder what the Walmart bread tastes like, too :O Is it sweet? Will we ever know?!

Lothlórien was such a cool place. I had forgotten how much I missed the fun of climbing up the trees in Oropher's halls until I had once more started scaling up the branches of the huge mallorn trees to get to the balcony to Glorfindel's and my room.

Naturally, Glorfindel, ever-ready for the next dose of adrenaline, was joining in the fun before long, and as has always been our wont, our own enthusiasm fuelled each other's excitement. Soon, climbing turned to jumping from tree to tree, to sliding down the branches and trunks like they were bannisters on a staircase.

We only did most of these things when we were sure we wouldn't get caught, lest we evoke the hysteria of a frantically worried Elrond, who would no doubt read us several riot acts. Unfortunately, though, our eyes weren't everywhere, and we did travel _awfully_ quickly on our new mode of transport.

About a week and a half into our stay there, after Glorfindel and I thought everyone had gone to bed, we had jumped the balcony and started zipping around on the branches like we were a luge team, and had been having an absolutely splendid time doing so for a good half hour.

As we made to take a curve, our strategic leaning and jumping was suddenly thrown off by a panicked, suspiciously Elrond-like screech of "_RHODRI! GLORFINDEL!" _coming from somewhere behind us.

In the time it took for him to deliver that short but dramatic admonishment, we were sufficiently distracted that we leaned incorrectly, and it was game over from there. We shot directly over a prickly broken branch before flying into the air and landing in a crumpled, tangled heap on the ground some three metres below.

We lay there for a moment, winded and groaning, and by the time we made to sit up, Elrond, Celebrían, and Olórin were already standing over us.

"Well, _really_, you two," Elrond said, pursing his lips and putting his hands on his hips. Celebrían rolled her eyes and shook her head, smirking mirthfully at us. Olórin wasn't even trying to hide his amusement, and started giggling loudly.

"_Ai!_ And your pants! Look at you both! You're bleeding!" Elrond exclaimed, pointing at our legs. I looked down and saw that the inner legs of both Glorfindel's and my pants were torn, and the two of us had splinters ranging from pinhead size to the length of toothpicks hanging out of our thighs. Olórin's laughter amplified into shameless cackling now.

"Oh," I said blankly, noticing some minor discomfort. I turned to face Glorfindel, who was examining his wounds with fascination. "I suppose we'd better get these taken out, beloved."

"Yes, you had!" Elrond said with a nod. "Come, we'll escort you to the healing wing. Honestly, I don't know _what_ possesses you two to do such foolhardy things sometimes…" He put an arm under Glorfindel, Celebrían doing the same for me, and they frog-marched us off to the healer's, Olórin still howling and slapping his knee where they'd found us.

When we were about a hundred metres away from the doors to the hospital wing, we could hear some sort of loud, miserable moaning echoing down the corridor, and the sound only seemed to intensify as we drew closer. The four of us exchanged looks, and kept going.

We entered to find three different healers clustered around a young adult with long, brown hair, attempting to hold him still while he writhed in agony, his eyes tightly shut all the while. In the corner, the people who appeared to be his parents watched on, holding each other and looking absolutely distraught.

"Please stop…" the Elf sobbed loudly. "Be quiet… stop hurting me, please…"

I watched on in fascination for a moment. It almost looked to me like he was in the throes of an acute psychotic episode. Whenever he got a hand free, he would claw at his head and neck until the healer caught hold of it again.

"Here," said a fourth healer who beetled over to him, a small glass of red liquid in hand that I recognised to be a very powerful soporific. "Drink this. It will make it stop."

The Elf reached out, down the glass in one go, let it fall to the ground where it shattered on the tiles, and his groaning was instantly replaced with long, deep breaths.

"What's going on?" I asked, unable to keep my curiosity to myself. Elrond nodded, equally as keen to make sense of what was going on.

"We do not know," said one of the healers to me as he bent down to pick up some of the pieces of glass. "He has been in here all evening with this. We cannot see any injury on him, he has not ingested any poisons, or if he has, he has had every antidote possible."

"How was he before he was brought here?" Elrond asked the parents.

"He was telling us he could hear a voice without seeing the source of the noise," the mother said, taking a step forward together with the father.

"That has been going on for a week or so," added the father. "He has had headaches as well, and of late he just wants to stay in quiet places and sleep most of the time."

Elrond raised an eyebrow and looked at me. I frowned. "I wonder," I said to them, "if I might ask you a few more questions about your son. I have experience in working with people with similar complaints and might be able to be of some help."

They nodded quickly. "If you think you can help, please, ask us anything," the father said, the mother nodding emphatically.

"Have you got a spare room I can borrow where I might speak to these two, at all?" I asked the healer closest to me.

"You ought to get those splinters out first," he said to me pointedly, gesturing at my bleeding thighs.

"I'd really prefer not to wait," I replied quickly. "And I have a feeling they would rather not, either," I gestured at the parents.

The healer shrugged. "If you wish it," he said, bidding me to follow him to a door that opened into a consultation room with a desk and some seats. I shambled in like John Wayne, the parents close behind me, and shut the door.

After a quick ethics and confidentiality rundown and a brief explanation of my job, we were ready to start.

"All right, so, so far what I know is that… ah…" I paused, realising I hadn't yet caught the boy's name.

"Glamren," the mother supplied.

"Thank you. So I know that all this started for Glamren around a week ago. He started hearing a voice out of nowhere, getting headaches, feeling things crawling, and he's been withdrawing from things he usually does."

"That is correct," the father confirmed.

"And all of this is completely out of character for him?"

"Oh, yes," the mother said with a nod. "He is a very social boy. He loves to dance and play the harp. It is a complete shift in his personality and behaviour."

"Has he been seeing anything that isn't really there?"

They paused a moment, and then shook their heads.

"What about any strange, new beliefs that make no sense at all, but in which he is genuinely confident and you cannot gainsay?"

"There… might be something like that," murmured the father thoughtfully, glancing at the mother for confirmation. "It was what prompted us to bring him here, in fact. He had started shouting, much like what you saw before, that he hated he had been the one chosen to suffer like he is."

I nodded, noting down everything on a blank piece of paper I saw on the desk.

"Has anything like this ever happened with him before?" I enquired. "Any talk, for example, of being chosen to suffer?"

"Never," the father said, both he and the mother shaking their heads firmly.

"How about in the rest of the family? Has anyone had similar sorts of issues before?"

"Not that we know of," the mother said, frowning a little as she seemed to mentally double-check hers statement.

I scribbled her answer down. "Do you know if anything traumatic has happened recently to him or in your social circles? A death, perhaps, or a very big shock?"

The parents sat with my question for a moment and then shook their heads in synchrony. "I do not believe so," the mother said. "He would have told us if there had been. We three are very close, and he is very open with us."

I twirled the pen in my hands. This was most curious. So far, this all the makings of a psychotic disorder of some sort, but at the same time, I had been under the impression that Elves were impervious to diseases of the brain. They didn't fall ill the way humans did. Any mental problems were usually the result of a flawed thinking pattern that cemented itself and gave rise to problematic behaviours and emotions. And yet, here was this boy, totally throwing that assumption out the window, and there didn't seem to be any trace of injury or poisoning. How could an Elf get sick like this? Unless, of course, he wasn't really an Elf.

I raised an eyebrow at my own idea, and the mother and father looked at me curiously.

"This is a bit of a long shot," I began slowly, "but I'll ask just to be sure. Glamren is your own, self-made offspring, yes?"

They looked bewildered but confirmed that he was indeed produced through their own efforts.

"Are you both completely Elven? There is no history of any other races in your lineage?"

Their eyes widened now as they appeared to vacillate between offence and shock.

"Some races, such as Men, are prone to illness," I explained patiently. "I am not here to cast judgement on who your relatives may be, but I require an honest answer to be able to exclude this factor."

With a notably displeased look, the father assured me that both sides of the family were of wholly Elven descent.

Well, there went that theory.

"Noted," I said calmly as I wrote it down. "Well, what you've described so far is reminiscent of a group of illnesses known as psychotic disorders, strange though it would be that an Elf has it."

I paused and frowned inwardly as I considered how impossible this all felt. "If he hasn't been poisoned," I continued, "and hasn't received any serious injuries, that narrows down the list of potential culprits to about four. I'll still have to ask both you and him a few more questions and we will have to wait another few weeks to give at least a preliminary diagnosis."

Three of the possible disorders had essentially the same symptoms but varied depending on how long the symptoms had persisted. The shortest of these was a brief psychotic disorder, which involves hallucinations (hearing imaginary voices, seeing things that don't exist, false sensations on the skin- anything the five senses detect that isn't there), delusions (an unshakeable belief in something that is clearly not true, e.g. believing you're god, thinking you're being followed by spies), and dysfunction in speech, movement, and a sudden withdrawal from everything—which last no longer than a month. In the mid-length schizophreniform disorder, these symptoms last up to 6 months. In schizophrenia, the symptoms persist beyond the 6 month period.

The fourth disorder, schizoaffective disorder, is schizophrenia with symptoms of major depressive disorder, and that was the one I had to rule out now.

The father nodded. "Ask us anything," he said quickly. "I… ah… will not take offence like before. I apologise," he added remorsefully.

I shook my head and held up my hand. "It's not a problem. I know you're worried about your boy. Listen, how has his mood been?"

"Variable," the mother replied. "At the start, he was only slightly bothered by the voice and was otherwise very happy, but since it has persisted and he began to feel tortured, he has been very sad. When the voice is quiet, though, he seems much better, calmer, even hopeful that this is the last of it. Then, when it returns, he becomes unhappy again."

"So his mood depends entirely on what the voice is doing and how tortured he feels, is what I'm hearing."

They nodded.

That ruled out schizoaffective disorder, leaving us with the other three to work with.

As I started to explain my possible conjecture to them, a loud scream came from the other room which sounded like it had been produced by Glamren. The parents' faces filled with fright, and they turned the chairs over as they bolted out of the room. I waddled out behind them as quickly as I could only to see that Glamren had indeed woken, and was now being restrained at the arms by two healers again as he seemed to try and break free from their grasp. I went over and stood close to him.

"Glamren! GLAMREN!" I shouted at him amid his screams, and he paused and looked up at me tearfully, whimpering as he twisted fruitlessly.

"My name is Rhodri. Your parents have told me what has been going on with you, and I might be able to help, but I will need to ask you a few more questions. Can you talk with me?"

He stifled a sob and nodded a little, eyes closing in agony as he did.

"We cannot let go of him for you to take him into that room back there," one of the healers said to me, shaking her head. "Not when he has been moving around like this."

"Very well," I nodded. I glanced up at Glorfindel, who gave me a quick nod and departed with Elrond and Celebrían to a treatment room in the back.

"Glamren, I want you to tell me about what's going on in your head," I said clearly, loud enough to be heard over his soft, despondent groans. "How did this start?"

"I w-woke up like this one morning," he whispered. "The voice started to talk and growl, but I thought it would go away on its own, that maybe it was an animal in my room somewhere that I could hear, but it has been following me all this time."

"And you think it's torturing you, your mother and father say."

"It is," he said between cries. "The voice is so angry with me. I am in so much pain, and I cannot do anything any more. It doesn't happen to anyone else, and I don't know why it's picked me…"

At this point, Glamren broke down into low, wavering sobs and started beseeching again. "Please leave me be… stop… enough… I beg of you, stop…" his voice grew forceful.

"What is the voice saying to you right now, Glamren?" I asked, gently tapping the side of his face to get his attention. "Tell me what the voice is telling you."

"_Dark… so dark… horrible… evil… my prison…_" he whispered.

I blinked. "Is that what it usually says to you?"

"Some-t-times it is crueller if I argue back" he choked. "Sometimes it hurts me."

"What does it do when it hurts you?" I asked, tapping his face softly again as he started looking away. "I need you to concentrate a little longer, Glamren. Tell me what the voice does when it hurts you."

"My head…" he groaned. "It growls at me and makes the inside of my head burn."

"Burn…" I repeated. This was odd. Headaches were common enough in psychotic disorders, but a burning pain was a description I hadn't heard before. That was surprisingly severe. I stood there for a moment wondering what on earth I could do for this kid. There was no medication in Middle-Earth for psychotic disorders, and I wasn't qualified to start him on anything anyway. Therapy would be of some help, but the primary way to manage psychotic disorders was with medication. And now it seemed like he might have some other disease totally out of my specialty on top of that!

As I went to ask him about the voice now, he let out an almighty scream, and with what must have been one of the most impressive displays of graceful aggression I had ever seen, raised his legs and booted both healers holding his arms straight in the solar plexus. They crumpled on the spot, and before anyone else could get to him, he had bolted out of the hospital wing.

He didn't get very far, though. In fact, once in the corridor, he failed to run in a straight line for more than a few metres. Even his body wasn't straight. He was hunched as he loped gracelessly, and toppled over like he had fallen off a bicycle.

"Christ, he's about to have a seizure," I muttered, and we bolted over to him. I gently put him onto his back and held his head steady in my hands, but the seizure I was expecting never came. He just lay there, howling miserably. I slowly took my hands away, and saw some redness on the thumb of my left hand.

"Blood?" I gently twisted his head to get a better look at where it had come from and saw a small trail of it in his ear. He hadn't smacked his head on the ground when he landed, thankfully, so it wasn't an immediate injury.

This was something else. There was no mental illness that made you bleed from your ears. And yet, the voice let him know pain was about to arrive.

"I… I think there's something in there," I murmured slowly, "And I think it's still _alive_." I looked up quickly. "Did you check his ears?" I asked the head healer.

She frowned at me. "We had a brief from the outside, but there was nothing we could see."

I shook my head. "No, it's in too deep now, we won't see it unless we look right inside his ear canal with a light and a magnifying glass. I think it's buried its way right in, which is why he got dizzy and fell over."

I gently picked Glamren up and carried him back to his bed, rolling him onto his side as the healers fetched some instruments and started to investigate his ear. After a few moments of angling, the head healer let out a gasp.

"There is a moth in there!" she exclaimed. Well, that explained the odd voice. I recalled watching moths go absolutely bananas for the glow of my balcony light in London. Reading out there on a summer's evening meant the quiet was periodically interrupted by a soft bonking sound as they collided with the bulb. "_Dark, horrible prison..." _the inner canal of an Elf ear certainly must have felt that way for a moth. That growling must have been the critter flapping its wings for all it was worth in the foolish hope it woukd mysteriously be able to fly out the way it had come.

Glamren's mother looked absolutely horrified, and the father blanched and looked like he was about to pass out.

"Ma'am, you'd better prop your husband up before we have to peel him off the floor, too," I said to her, pointing at her spouse. She quickly put an arm under him and guided him over to a chair.

I hoped the healers could entice the moth to simply back out on its own, because I imagined it would put up quite a fight if they had to drag it out with forceps or some similar implement. That much, however, was way out of my scope of practice.

I decided to waddle into the back room and get the others, now that the excitement was over. I opened the door, and Glorfindel, Elrond, and Celebrían looked up at me expectantly.

"He has a moth in his ear," I said with a shrug. Their mouths fell open as they followed me outside. Apparently, bug infestations like this were unheard of. I supposed there was a first time for everything.

As we came out, I saw the healers dose the boy up with another glass of the red sedative, and they started fiddling around trying to get this disgruntled creature out of his ear canal.

"Now," Elrond said crisply, "Let's not have any more delays and get these things out of your legs."

"Oh, right," I said absent-mindedly. "Thanks for the reminder, Elrond." On impulse, not quite knowing why, I strained a little, and with that, the splinters fell out of my legs, making a small tinkling sound as they hit the tiles. I bent over and looked at my thighs, and apart from looking a little bloodstained, there was no trace of injury on them.

I swiped up the splinters and looked up to see Elrond, Celebrían and Glorfindel staring at me with wide eyes.

"Cool, huh?" I said with a grin. "I didn't even know I could do that until just now!"

"This doesn't mean you get to simply return to sliding around on the trees like they're waterslides, Rhodri," Elrond said quickly, looking at me sternly.

I groaned. "Yes, Naneth." Elrond rolled his eyes, and after I threw the splinters out, we made to leave. The healers barely looked up from their work as they tried to coax out this beleaguered creature.

"Did you still want those splinters out?" the head healer asked as she angled a tool down Glamren's ear.

"No, thanks, all sorted," I chirped as we went out the door. "Best of luck with that moth!"

I heaved a sigh of relief as we walked down the halls together.

"You looked quite concerned for a while, there, Rhodri," Celebrían said to me after a while.

"I was," I admitted. "I thought he had something that I lack the resources or qualifications here to treat properly. Thankfully, I was wrong. We are very lucky to be impervious to most of the illnesses that affect mortals. The things some go through…"

I shook my head and felt a small ache as I recalled my practice in London. Some of my clients suffered intense psychiatric symptoms (often from psychotic disorders) that had not responded to medical treatment, or were survivors of such appalling circumstances that I had to take a short break between them and the next appointment so I could cry it out. It had been such a long time since I'd had anything to do with that part of my career, and to revisit it so suddenly had been quite trying.

"Perhaps a belated Happy Hour is in order," Glorfindel said with a small smile. Celebrían and Elrond nodded solicitously, and not five minutes later, we were on some unspecified balcony, sipping on cloudy apple juice and horsing around.

"If we may, Rhodri, Glorfindel," Elrond said after we'd finished our fourth round of Fortunately, Unfortunately, "Celebrían and I would like to accompany the two of you to the tailor's when we return to Imladris."

Glorfindel chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "What, do you the two of you think we are so irresponsible as to not know the way there, or that perhaps we will simply forget to have them mended?"

"Not at all," Celebrían said with a smile as she shook her head. "We just want to watch the two of you explain to the people there how your pants got into that state in the first place."

In an astonishing moment of role reversal, Glorfindel and I were the ones giving Elrond and Celebrían withering looks as they tittered behind their glasses. This had been one hell of an odd day.

**Psych Notes**

**Schizophrenia **

_NB: Symptoms of schizophrenia are divided into 'positive' and 'negative'. In this context, they do not mean 'good' and 'bad,' but rather refer to problematic additions (things that shouldn't be there that are) and problematic absences (things that should be there that aren't). Items 1-4 are examples of positive symptoms. _

**PART A: At least two of these, and one of them must be the first three:**

Hallucinations

Delusions

Very disorganised speech (e.g. incoherence, rapidly changing topics without context, making up words, using the completely wrong word for something ('word salad'))

Very disorganised, repetitive, or listless behaviour ('catatonia') (e.g. odd postures, very rigid or overly flexible, agitated movements that repetitive or seem to have no purpose, inactivity)

Negative symptoms: no motivation, decreased emotions and/or display of emotion, low energy, not talking much, isolation, lacking social skills, uninterested in or unable to maintain relationships

**PART B: Symptoms persist for at least 6 months.**

**PART C: Symptoms are not due to another underlying disorder e.g. schizoaffective disorder**

The same symptoms but for shorter periods are classed as **brief psychotic disorder** (goes away after 1 month), or **schizophreniform disorder** (goes away within 6 months).

**Schizoaffective disorder  
**This disorder is essentially a twofer (if you'll pardon the expression) of schizophrenia and either major depressive disorder or bipolar disorder. You'll recall the hallmark indicators of depression in the previous chapter. Bipolar disorder involves cycling between episodes of depression and mania (which I will explain below)

PART A: Part A of schizophrenia criteria, and at the same time, the patient must also experience symptoms of a depressive or manic episode

_Manic episode: at least 1 week for most or all of the time of- happy, excited, or agitated mood with lots of energy, during which time the person may not sleep much, behave in risky, hedonistic or irresponsible ways (e.g. driving quickly, sleeping around, spending huge amounts of money), feel invincible or god-like, be very talkative, have racing thoughts._

PART B: If the depressive or manic symptoms subside, the patient must still experience delusions or hallucinations for at least two weeks

PART C: The depressive/bipolar symptoms are there for the majority of the illness.

**Differential diagnosis**

There are a lot of disorders that need to be ruled out when diagnosing a psychotic mental illness- more than I listed in this chapter, mostly because I wanted it to have a hint of storyline and not just be a university lecture :P

In this instance, Rhodri needed to be sure that when Glamren was upset, it wasn't because he was showing signs of a mood disorder like depression or bipolar, as then he would have fit the bill for schizoaffective disorder. Glamren wasn't showing a hint of a manic episode, of course, so that was off the table.

There can often be a lot of overlap between some of the negative symptoms of schizophrenia and depression, such as withdrawing from society, not being interested in things you used to be, and generally feeling 'flat.' Where schizophrenia begins to distinguish itself from depression (and thus schizoaffective disorder) is that there are no real 'lows' of sadness. There will be distress from the hallucinations/delusions, as these are often very unhappy experiences (voices that insult you or threaten to kill you, being afraid the government is spying on you, etc.). But it will usually take the form of intense fear, agitation, or paranoia, which are predictable reactions if you genuinely believe someone is out to get you, or if you are hearing an incorporeal voice constantly telling you you're an awful person. Sadness doesn't automatically fit in there, though.

According to his mother and father, Glamren was not showing any signs of deep sadness. He would howl and sob from fear and distress when the moth spoke, and also from the pain the moth caused as it buried further into his ear canal. When the moth would finally shut up for a while, though, and stop nibbling at his eardrum, Glamren was calm. Rhodri didn't get enough assessment done to be able to ascertain how emotionally flat he had become, however, because Glamren did that majestic double-kick and absconded.


	33. Workaholics theonomous

I didn't see much of Galadriel in the time leading up to our second appointment. There were occasional meetings similar to the one we attended on the first day, but things were kept strictly related to the topic at hand.

To be fair, though, I didn't spend any time seeking her out up to then. I was afraid if she spotted Glorfindel and I sliding around on her trees that she'd rat us out to Elrond, so I was happy enough to stay out of sight and, hopefully, out of mind.

The day that we were due to meet up for her follow-up session came and all but went and I didn't see a trace of her. It was only while I was lying in bed, Glorfindel already fast asleep and curled around me like a strangler fig, that I saw a hint of a gently glowing figure outside through the balcony window. The person was walking down the hall, quite some distance away from our room, but slowly drawing closer. Nobody shone quite as obviously as Galadriel did, and I knew that my chance for our session had come at last.

Over the course of the next two minutes, I managed to untangle Glorfindel from around me and rearrange him into a comfortable position, throw on my robes, and slip out to meet her.

"Hello there," I said pleasantly as I strode over to her.

"Good evening, Rhodri," she said with a smile.

Something told me she had walked past intentionally, as though a hunch had told her I would go to her to enquire if she wished to talk awhile. To ensure there was no room for misunderstanding, I always spoke in very clear terms with clients. Before I could ask her whether she was interested in having the session, she shot me a mysterious smile and kept walking, but her pace dropped a little.

"_If I am reading you correctly,"_ I said to her in my head, "_you wish for me to follow you."_

"_That is quite accurate_," she replied, saying nothing more as she carried on.

I kept my expression blank as I strolled beside her, wondering quietly to myself if she wasn't overdoing the Woman of Mystery trope just a tad. Still, though, if she got her jollies from acting as elusively as Carmen Sandiego, who was I to judge?

We didn't speak as we wound our way along the corridors and up the stairs to the same place where the first session had been. As we sat down, the silence continued, but for some reason, Galadriel seemed to be watching me expectantly.

"Are you ready to begin our follow-up meeting?" I asked after a moment.

Another enigmatic smile. Galadriel nodded invitingly, and I knew that she had much she wished to tell me.

"All right," I said with a gentle smile. "So fill me in on what's been happening these last two weeks."

Galadriel looked at me in puzzlement.

"Oh, sorry, that was dialect," I said quickly, chuckling. "I meant to ask that you apprise me of what has been going on since last we spoke."

"No, I understood you the first time," she replied as she shook her head. "But I made my mind perfectly open for you to take the thoughts and see them for yourself."

"It is not my practice to simply step into someone's mind and extract their thoughts for my own perusal," I answered, shaking my head gently back at her.

She looked taken aback. "But you can do it, can you not?"

"Probably. I don't know," I shrugged. "I've never tried to. Only the direst of circumstances would possibly persuade me to do it, and so far, such a situation has never arisen."

Galadriel frowned ever so slightly, not taking her eyes off me as she waited for me to speak again.

"Again, just because you can, doesn't mean you should." I reminded her benignly, raising my eyebrows. "And particularly in my case, it is, for the most part, a foolish endeavour, because I am here to help you examine your own thoughts and come to terms with them. I'm not supposed to spoon-feed you answers, merely point you in the right direction."

She seemed to accept my response pretty well, nodding and chewing her lip pensively. "You are a very strange Maia," she murmured.

"I'm aware," I said with a convivial snicker. "Now," I continued, navigating the dialogue back to the topic at hand. "Tell me what you've gotten up to these last few weeks."

According to Galadriel, she had indeed found three trusted advisors (one of them being Celeborn), and had spent a week and a half in an understandably stressful phase as she filled them in and trained them up to her liking. Now, though, it seemed she had things arranged fairly nicely, and the fruits of her labour were manifesting in the form of free time. Now, however, that had started to lead to its own problems.

"I find I grow restless now," she admitted as her eyes seemed to gaze at some far-off place.

"Tell me about it?" I prodded gently when she failed to elaborate any further.

Galadriel sighed. "There is so little to do in the absence of work," she said regretfully.

"Is there? Only last session, you had told me that you enjoyed socialising and playing the harp whenever you could get the time."

"Indeed," she lamented, "but I cannot enjoy them without guilt for neglecting my work. It seems that I have given up my duties in exchange for time to punish myself for shirking them."

I looked at her carefully. "Galadriel, when you say you are punishing yourself for taking time off work, what do you mean?"

She looked slightly abashed as she said, "I do not allow myself to socialise or play anything now."

The punishment gluttony that ruled the lives of people who had climbed their way to the top of the food chain was a worrying thing to observe. Imagine thinking that a day off now and then was a crime worth forcing yourself into reclusion over. Well, I didn't have to, really. Galadriel was engaging in the mental equivalent of self-flagellation, and for what? Recognising the importance of maintaining her own health and wellbeing?

The problem with Galadriel was that despite her impressive age and wisdom, her moral compass was still very much in a binary state of good and evil with little to no room for a grey zone, or even neutral things that didn't belong there in the first place. Such an outlook often hinders judgement, because how could she prioritise things from big to small when they all evoked the same response? How could she decide which is the lesser of two evils when in her mind, they both simply registered as evil? It must have been exhausting, constantly being on such high alert all the time.

"Tell me about why you feel you don't deserve any time for yourself," I said gently.

She fixed me with a quizzical look and answered, "I never said that I felt that way."

"Perhaps I am being a little hasty with my conclusions," I admitted. "Let's take it back a bit. Why did you decide to heed my suggestion and appoint three advisors?"

Galadriel was quiet for a rather long time. Not because she didn't want to answer, but because she was genuinely considering my question.

"I suppose because you recommended me to," she said eventually.

"I think there is a little more to it than that, Galadriel," I replied, raising an eyebrow a little. "You are not the kind of person to mindlessly follow the directives of others. What would you have said if I told you to put Lothlorien under Elrond's administration, flee the place with Celeborn in tow, and spend the rest of your days sunbaking on the beach in Edhellond?"

Galadriel's eyes widened, and she said, "You are being ridiculous now, Rhodri."

"_Am_ I, though?" I countered. "There had to be something in you that decided that it was sensible to take my advice. What was it?"

Appearing rather discomfited now, she thought awhile again, and then a quiet, "Yes," seemed to escape her lips in spite of herself. She seemed annoyed with herself for a moment, but then, accepting the horse had bolted, elaborated. "I felt it was in Lothlorien's best interests."

There was no doubt about it. Galadriel was definitely one of the more reticent clients I'd had. It wasn't like she was short on words in general, but right now you'd think she only averaged one sentence a week the way she cached her thoughts. I got the impression that emotional overdrive was in full force right now and giving her a thorough lambasting.

"Tell me what you're feeling right now, Galadriel."

"Annoyance," she said stiffly. "And guilt."

"Can you explain a little about the annoyance? What is it that's making you feel that way?"

Galadriel's eyebrows knitted together in a rare display of distress. "I am not certain. I believe it is a mixture of things."

I nodded, making a gesture that invited her to expand on that. She sighed. "I believe acted in Lothlorien's best interests by getting advisors. And I am tired. I wish to have time to myself so that I can gather my strength for the days that lie ahead. And yet, now that I have it, the guilt attacks me, and the only way I can placate it is to forbid myself from enjoying myself."

Ah. Now we were getting somewhere. She was gradually starting to come to the problem herself.

"What do you suppose it is you feel guilty about?" I probed.

"That others do my work while I take time out for my own leisure," she answered, her lip curling in evident disgust at herself.

I nodded. "You know, Galadriel, I think the issue is that you are approaching this situation with a rather skewed set of morally acceptable values for yourself. Would you be open to trying a short role playing exercise with me?"

Galadriel raised a sceptical eyebrow at me, but nodded slowly.

"In this scenario, you are you, and I am one of twelve workers at your library. As well as being a librarian, I am the only one of those twelve who can draw maps. You asked me to draw you a large, detailed map of the entire continent of Middle-Earth that you needed ready by today. You come in to collect it and see that I am only half done and looking very fatigued. Thus our scene begins."

Galadriel nodded again, and I morphed into a worn-out, sickly looking Elf as I said, "Oh, I am sorry, Lady Galadriel, but the map you asked for is nowhere near done."

"You seem very distressed, Rhodri the Librarian," she said to me, seemingly impressed that I looked the part so well. "Why is that so?"

"Well, truthfully, I am weary in the extreme," I replied heavily, rubbing my brow. "I am still doing my librarian duties through the day, and am completing the map whenever I am not working. I am barely sleeping, only taking one meal a day, and not doing anything pleasurable any more, but I am so tired that I can scarcely draw the map and am making substantial mistakes."

"Why are you still doing the librarian duties when there are eleven others who can share that load?" she asked me, looking at me in small disbelief.

"This is my job, my Lady," I said, faking shock. "I cannot simply give someone else my work. That means someone else has to do it. It would be wrong."

"But I do not want for you to suffer so that you can do your work," Galadriel replied, shaking her head. "It is better for you, and better for the task I have assigned you, if you simply accept some assistance and allow yourself some room to take care of yourself properly."

With that last sentence, a lightbulb seemed to go off in her head, and she looked at me with wide eyes.

I quickly shifted back to my usual self. "What is it, Galadriel?"

"Is this what I have sounded like this entire time?" she murmured to me.

I nodded grimly. "I'm afraid so. It would seem that you have a very different set of expectations of others compared to what you expect of yourself. Do you think that that is fair?"

Galadriel pursed her lips. "But there are things that only I can do," she protested.

"There were things only the map-making librarian could do, as well," I replied. "Did she deserve to live poorly because she was specialised in some way?"

"Of course not," Galadriel snapped. "It made no sense for her to have to live that way!"

"Why not?"

"Well, because she was unhappy, and it made her do her job worse."

"So you would say that she needed to live well so that she could do her job properly?" I clarified.

"Certainly."

"Was it worth the eleven other librarians taking on a little extra work to fill in the gap?"

"Well, yes, absolutely," she nodded.

I said nothing for a moment and looked at her, my eyebrows raised a little. She looked straight back at me, biting her lip a little.

"Like I said in the last session," I reminded her, "Don't hold yourself to a higher standard than what Iluvatar expects of the Valar. You're special, but you're not _that _special." I smiled. Galadriel laughed a little at that, and I could see that it was slowly sinking in.

"Look," I continued, "it takes an age to unlearn habits like what you have now, so you probably won't enjoy yourself completely at first, but you need to start intellectualising this and looking at overall benefits. There _is _a benefit to you taking care of yourself, which is that you personally flourish. That alone is reason enough to do it, but the natural consequence of living well is that you more effectively rule over Lothlorien and protect it- your specific duty. Ignoring your needs invariably means that you consequentially ignore the needs of your realm."

Galadriel touched a long, slender finger to her lips in thought. "That is most imprudent."

I nodded. "It certainly is. What I want you to do is to change your perspective to this: Lothlorien and its people's wellbeing are your priority, and how effectively you take care of them depends on how effectively you take care of yourself. Your basic needs are no different to your people's, and they must be fulfilled in the same way." I jotted down dot-points of these conditions on a scrap piece of paper and handed it to her.

"You know what I think might help you get into the mindset," I ventured, "is to wait a couple of weeks to make sure everything is under control, and then come back with us to Imladris for a short break. Stay for a month or two, unwind a little. It will restore you that much quicker, and when you come back, you will already be in the habit of looking after yourself. What do you say, hmm?"

Galadriel tapped her lips pensively. "Perhaps that would be wise."

"Excellent," I said with a broad smile. "We can show you how to trampoline."

Her face snapped into a look of bewilderment. "Tram- _what?_"

"I'll let Glorfindel explain it a little later," I said with a wink. "He'll be so excited." My toes tapped the floor as the anticipation built up.

Galadriel looked perplexed by my animated behaviour, but took it in her stride well enough. "Very well," she said with a cautious nod, raising an eyebrow at me.

"And of course, you can come and chat with me in my office at any time," I added with a smile.

She seemed more and more convinced by the minute. Deciding that was enough for one session, I wrapped it up. "I think we've made a lot of progress in this session. How about we leave it here for now, give yourself a bit of time to digest it all, and see how you're feeling about coming with us to Imladris in a couple of weeks, eh?"

Finally looking a little relaxed, she nodded her head, giving me a tiny fatigued but genuine smile.

We got up and made our way back downstairs- at considerable stress to me, because there was a particularly tempting looking branch that appeared to snake down to exactly the floor on which Glorfindel's and my sleeping chamber was found. Suppressing the urge to simply hop the balustrade and slide on down was pure torture.

When we reached my floor, I took my leave from Galadriel with a friendly wave and slipped into my room, shutting the door behind me. I changed back into my pyjamas and realised there was no way I would be able to ease into the position I was in prior to getting out of bed- nothing that wouldn't wake Glorfindel, anyway, who had managed to completely cocoon himself with our blanket like some sort of Elf burrito.

Shrugging to myself, I lay down on the other side of him as gently as I could so as not to disturb the bed. I felt pretty satisfied that I had been very subtle about it, but seconds later, I heard a "Nnnnggg…" and looked over in time to see Glorfindel turn over to face me, reaching a blanketed arm out and dragging me over to him until he had completely entwined his arms and legs around mine, his nose threatening to poke my eye out if it moved one centimetre to the left. One small, satisfied grunt later, and his deep, rhythmic breaths had resumed.

I chanced a look at him. _Sleep well, climber vine, _I thought to myself with a smile as I (barely) shut my eyes and summoned unconsciousness to drag me off for a while.


	34. He doesn't even go here!

**Author's note:  
** earthdragon: Your comments are always such a joy to read. I really appreciate you taking the time to leave your feedback and I love hearing what you have to say! With any luck, the next chapter will clear things up a little about Galadriel ;) Oh, and about Elrond: yeah, he pretty much is a crotchety little old person when it comes to getting an adrenaline rush, but it's kind of hard to know how much of it is his worrier nature doing the talking... he _was_ willing to give the trampoline a go, after all. We'd have to drop him off in Valinor to know for certain! :D

For all her reluctance to speak about her issues, Galadriel ended up speaking to me in my professional capacity a couple more times before we were due to depart Lothlórien. This was not wholly unexpected. When it comes to making huge life changes, sometimes people need to hear the same advice a few times in slightly different words before the penny completely drops and they can carry the advice out to completion. Such was the case with Galadriel, and so on some late evenings, we would rehash the topic for hours up on the topmost platform in the area.

"So, Galadriel," I said after our last session had just about wrapped up, "do you think you'll come with us to Imladris?"

"I shall, yes," she answered, nodding her head serenely. "Celeborn will accompany us as well."

"Excellent," I grinned. "So how are the preparations coming along for your advisors to step up and take your role?"

"Do you know, Rhodri, I have been thinking on how to go about that."

"Oh, yes?" I said with interest. "What have you planned so far?"

"Well, to be frank with you, Rhodri, I am a little tempted to leave it to Amroth to organise."

I frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar. I was sure I'd heard Elrond mention it a few times, but I wasn't the best with names, so it could have been anyone.

"That's not one of the names of your advisors, I don't think…" I quickly perused my notes to see which names I had taken down.

Galadriel raised an eyebrow. "Amroth is the King of Lothlórien, Rhodri."

My eyes widened and I looked at Galadriel in surprise. "Lothlórien has a king?"

Had there been a camera present, Galadriel would have broken the fourth wall and fixed it with a blistering expression. Fortunately, there was not, and she confirmed patiently that Lothlórien did indeed have a monarch.

"This is rather embarrassing to admit, Galadriel," I began, feeling the last of my dignity fetch its hat and coat and depart as I spoke, "But I was under the impression that you were the ruler here."

Her face was curiously blank, without any indication she had even heard me except for one tiny, prominent vein on her temple that looked like it was about to burst.

"Oh, for god's sake, if you must laugh, get it out of the way," I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Don't burst a blood vessel on my account."

She permitted herself to giggle behind her hand for a solid 15 seconds but regained her composure mercifully quickly after that.

"I am sorry, Rhodri," she continued with her usual impenetrable gravitas. "I was under the impression that you knew that, though it does explain why you've been calling Lothlórien my realm all this time."

I chuckled weakly, my embarrassment still rather heavy. "I get the feeling more people consult with you than with Amroth when it comes to Lothlórien."

With a tiny smile, she raised her eyebrows quickly.

"So, what, is this guy useless or something?" I said, abandoning all sense of propriety.

"Those are not my words, but I will take no action to discourage your opinion," she said, the look of entertainment not leaving her face.

"Ah," I nodded gently. "So you intend to shift the workload back into his lap and make him do his bloody job while you take a break, yes?"

"Something to that effect, yes," she replied with an amused nod. "Again, those are your words, not mine."

"Ah well, if he truly makes a dog's breakfast of running the place and you feel it incumbent on you to do something about it, you can always come back and take over formally," I suggested, making my eyes as big and innocent as possible.

Galadriel shut her eyes a moment and that vein in her temple came back again. I gave her a moment or two to get it together, and I stood up.

"Right, well, I think we've gotten about as much as we can extract out of this session," I said as I straightened out my robes.

Galadriel looked up at me, her eyes searching my face for a moment. "That is a very roundabout way of saying you want bread."

I shrugged casually. "It worked, didn't it?"

Two good things happened after my suggestion that Galadriel take a holiday. Number one, of course, was that Galadriel and Celeborn both came back with us to Rivendell. The second was that Curumo decided to hound Olórin for a while instead, probably because he already knew Galadriel's mind was impenetrable and any attempts to harass me for information would invariably lead to further humiliation.

My luck continued when Curumo decided to depart Lothlórien with Olórin, though my sympathies went out to my grey, dishevelled buddy that he had to put up with this cocksure turdbasket—by himself, no less. Still, I wasn't sorry enough that I offered to go with him, so that was that.

Unfortunately, Curumo's physical absence (delightful though it was) didn't mean he was far from my thoughts. In fact, I found myself worrying about what he might get up to or where he might go without the rest of us keeping him on a very tight leash. Allowing him to go anywhere unsupervised seemed ridiculously dangerous, but then, as far as anyone else knew, Curumo was just a nosy old man who meant well, and I had no proof he was anything but that.

Celebrían's folks stayed in Imladris right up until Galadriel received a premonition of sorts that Amroth had decided to essentially do what she had been fantasising about doing: chucking it all and sodding off to Edhellond, leaving Lothlórien without any leader. The news was relayed to us all over dinner that evening, in response to which I raised my glass and proposed a toast to the new Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. Long may they reign and behave themselves, et cetera, et cetera. Thus one of the longest holidays I had witnessed—some nine hundred years—had drawn to a close, and the new leaders of the Golden Wood went home again.

It was around that time that a lot of the small, worrisome things began to snowball into bigger, rather scary things. Not long after, a Balrog was awoken deep in the Mines of Moria and, in a state of extreme displeasure at this disturbance, gave the Dwarves living there the bum's rush, killing the King Durin VI and his son Náin in the process. Orcs were coming over the Misty Mountains and terrorising anything and everything in their path. The Nazgûl had set up shop in Mordor and seized Minds Ithil. We could even see that penetrating grey in the sky from Imladris when we looked out toward the Misty Mountains. Security was shaky at best, and we knew things could only nosedive from here on in.

During this time, what became known as the White Council (suggested by white-robed, white-haired Curumo, presumably because his egotism informed most of his choices) started to assemble when especially worrying things happened. The panel consisted of everyone present at the meeting in Lothlórien, but now also Aiwendil, who had joined on his first visit to Imladris. I wondered what to do about Curumo, who seemed these days to only shift between either being the ultimate queen bee at White Council meetings, or turning into a Registered Missing Person with a Mysterious Past in the time between them.

I eventually decided to voice my concerns to the group a few days before the next meeting was to occur. Everyone was present except Curumo and Aiwendil, and I decided this would have to do.

"Why are you summoning us to a White Council meeting when two of our members are not present, Rhodri?" Elrond asked me curiously. "Surely it would be prudent to wait a little longer and voice your concerns when Curumo and Aiwendil have arrived."

I stood up and started pacing agitatedly. "I would have liked to wait for Aiwendil, because I think this is something he should hear, too, but no, it is not prudent to wait for Curumo to arrive." I shook my head firmly.

"In fact, it's important these concerns be voiced when he is not present," I continued, holding up a finger for emphasis. Galadriel and Glorfindel were the only two who didn't look entirely confused; they knew this had to be coming at some point. Celeborn, mildly unsure, glanced at Galadriel for a moment, as if seeking confirmation, and after a glance from his wife, he now watched me with the same understanding expression.

"I'm just going to get to the point: I have suspicions about Curumo's allegiance," I professed, standing still. "I've harboured these suspicions since I first met him, and I cannot in good conscience put off relaying them to you any longer."

Olórin looked at me like I'd just told him Nienna had body odour. Erestor, Elrond, and Celebrían were also shocked, and seemed a little surprised the others were not.

For a moment, there was silence. Eventually, Elrond managed to find his voice again. "That is a very serious allegation to make, Rhodri," he said gravely. "It is unlike you to say these sorts of things. Have you anything to substantiate this?"

I shook my head and continued walking around. "I have nothing except a collection of small observations about his values and behaviour," I answered, my discontent leaking into my tone. "But I worry that they're the only signs we will get before he diverges and frustrates our efforts to unite against Sauron's forces."

Olórin and Elrond sat with identical frowns on their faces, their brows wrinkled and lips pursed.

"Tell us what you have noticed, Rhodri," Olórin requested, watching me closely as I continued to stride around the room impatiently.

With a sigh, I told them everything I had seen, from the way he spoke to Aiwendil, to glowering at the window as he saw Círdan give Narya to Olórin, to dominating conversations with his own ideas, and then hanging around in the east without so much as a word between meetings.

"Honestly," I said as I finished haemorrhaging my collection of observations, "I think he is very much inclined to be power-hungry. For that reason alone, I do not think he should be anywhere near the Necromancer's quarters."

"But he is the most powerful of the Istari," countered Olórin. "If he learns enough about the work of the forces there, we can use it to our advantage and predict the enemy's movements!"

"You're assuming he's going to tell you everything," I countered. "What if he becomes so enamoured by the lure of the evil forces that he decides not to bother with us any more? Or, god forbid, what if he uses it against us?"

"But he is the most powerful-" Olórin made to repeat.

"But not the wisest, Olórin!" I interrupted him exasperatedly. "How certain are you that he will be able to withstand the hollow temptations of this Necromancer? Imagine if this character could get his hands on a Maia servant like Curumo!"

"I think you are being too hasty to judge him, Rhodri," Olórin said tersely. "You have only seen him a handful of times. I know him better. He was sent with the rest of the Istari on a specific mission to fight the forces of Sauron."

"I'm not trying to act as though Curumo is a good friend of mine, or even a close acquaintance, but I will not pretend that I didn't see him behave the way he has!" I snapped back.

I turned to the others. "None of you have spoken up. What do you say about any of this, then?" I demanded, perhaps a little harshly. After a pregnant pause, Elrond finally spoke.

"I, for one, do not believe we have sufficient evidence to take any dramatic action at present."

I looked at Galadriel, then Celeborn, then Glorfindel, silently demanding one of them, any of them, to say something.

"What would you recommend we do, Rhodri?" Galadriel asked evenly, watching me with interest.

"If I had my way," I replied, "I'd stick him on a boat and send him straight back to Valinor. I wouldn't trust him here a second longer."

"I trust your judgement, Rhodri," Glorfindel ventured, "but I doubt that option is available, so what if you didn't have your way?"

I tapped my foot on the ground. "Then I would say this: watch him. When he comes here in a few days with Aiwendil, keep a close eye on how he behaves, keeping in mind what I told you today. When he makes a suggestion or gives an opinion, ask yourself what that could mean if he had poor intentions."

The others looked at me with varied expressions. Most were cautious; Galadriel and Celeborn smiled gently. My heart sank when I saw Olórin watching me with an expression of… was it anger? Was he suspicious of me, now that I had made my stance on Curumo clear?

"We can certainly do that much," said Elrond quickly, nodding his head. He seemed anxious to placate me while being afraid of acting on an uncertainty. I understood. These were troublesome times, and very little was guaranteed. Being in a constant state of flux was tiresome, especially for someone like concrete, cautious Elrond, and indulging a hypothetical was too big of an ask of him.

I let out a puff of air and rubbed my brows. This was about as good of an outcome as I could have expected, really. I returned to my seat, and thus followed a long silence as we digested everything that had happened today. It probably would have gone on a lot longer than it did had the bell for dinner not rang. Not looking at each other, we slowly rose to our feet and shuffled out of the room. As I made for the door, I went to Olórin and gently put a hand on his shoulder. He turned around slowly and watched me wordlessly, frowning pensiveness all over his face.

_"Promise me you'll watch him,"_ I murmured to him in Valarin. _"Just try. Please."_

His expression softened slightly as he placed a hand of his own on my shoulder. A feeling of relief came over me. At that moment, I knew he wasn't truly angry at me. He was afraid of what my suspicions being correct would entail. He nodded gently, and then left the room.

I was pleased I hadn't left my rant until the next day, because that was precisely when Aiwendil and Curumo arrived. Aiwendil seemed a little reluctant to be there, mostly because the person to animal ratio was far too skewed for his liking, but he settled in rather quickly once a bird or two landed on his shoulder. Curumo, on the other hand, looked simultaneously pleased with himself for deigning to show up, but also like he thought this was a waste of time.

We didn't waste any time, and started the council immediately when all were present and accounted for.

"I do not see the reason for summoning this council, Elrond," Curumo said simply with a shake of his head.

Elrond's eyebrows shot heavenwards. "We are here today, Curumo," he returned, "because of shared concerns of the forces behind the Necromancer.

The other members murmured in assent.

"The Necromancer?" Curumo replied with a laugh. "He is nothing more than a mortal man dabbling in malediction. Fifty years from now and he will be long dead. Do not trouble yourselves with him."

"It is a tad odd, Curumo, that it would be a mortal man behind all this when you consider what sort of evil has awoken all of a sudden, don't you think?" I challenged him. "A Balrog, the sudden return of the Nazgûl, horrible things emerging from the North and the East… funny, isn't it, that it's all coming out now."

He waved a hand dismissively. "The Balrog of Moria was disturbed by the Dwarves. As for the rest that followed, that was a mere ripple effect. You will see. In a few decades, this will all have blown over and the continent will be calm once more."

"It has been nearly a whole millennium, and your projection for the return of peace is a few decades?" I said in disbelief. "With all due respect (there was none), Curumo, I think you are vastly underestimating what is at play here if you believe that to be the case."

Curumo's eyes darted up and locked with mine, his nose wrinkling up into a small snarl. Not to be intimidated I let my gaze bore into him as hard as I could.

"And who do you suppose is behind this, then?" he sneered. "Morgoth?"

"Come, Curumo," said Celeborn, looking less than pleased. "You know it is Sauron we speak of."

"Sauron!" Curumo exclaimed with a scornful laugh. "He lost his power since Isildur took the Ring. He has not the means to harm any one at all."

"He could be using the time and the magic in the fortress to gather his strength," said Elrond to nobody in particular. "If it is him, we should seize the opportunity to launch an attack while he is still vulnerable."

"Preposterous!" Curumo cried. "Do not trouble yourselves over what lives in Dol Guldur. It is simply not worth your time and resources to indulge this foolish curiosity!"

An awkward pause settled over the room. Curumo wasn't giving this up. The tension in the rest of the room became evident, and with that, Olórin spoke up.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to at least begin doing some investigation into who this character is, so that we might better prepare ourselves for if, or rather when he decides to strike," he proposed.

More noises of concurrence ensued, none of which came from Curumo. He tore his eyes off me to instead set them on Olórin, who looked worried, but resolute.

"You are wasting your time," Curumo said firmly. "There is nothing- and no-one there worth looking into."

"Then the investigators will return unharmed and we will be able to concentrate our efforts elsewhere," answered Galadriel serenely, Celeborn nodding in support.

The council seemed to continue in a rather recursive manner, where one of us would make a suggestion for how to go about gleaning information regarding the unwelcome inhabitant of Dol Guldur, and Curumo would oppose it. In fact, Curumo's constant interruptions filibustered proceedings such that we had to adjourn for the day when the dinner bell rang (keeping in mind we had started shortly after lunch). With a triumphant look on his face, he tried to usher us out of the room, but I held up a hand.

"We have not yet had the news from Aiwendil regarding the animals of Mirkwood," I said. Aiwendil looked shocked that I had mentioned him, but happily began to speak, keenly relaying the happenings in his area of expertise. Curumo, however, openly displayed a lack of interest, and left the room when Aiwendil was mid-speech- precisely what I had hoped he would do.

I felt a sharp pang of guilt for that when I saw Aiwendil's hurt and confused face as he watched Curumo depart without so much as a backward glance, the door banging shut loudly behind him.

I went up to Aiwendil and put a hand on his shoulder. "Your news is very important, Aiwendil," I said firmly, "and we are listening carefully to what you have to say. Please continue when you are ready." I smiled, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and returned to my seat.

And his news was indeed very important. That old stereotype of animals having some sort of sixth sense for danger rang as true as ever here in Middle-Earth, and Aiwendil had been paying attention to the critters living in the epicentre of all this far more closely than anybody else. Thanks to Aiwendil's snippets, we found out that this Necromancer character had been training birds up to be his spies. Fighting between species had gotten out of control, and tension had finally reached a breaking point, because the animals had now started to flee the forest, making for the north or the east.

After he finished his impassioned speech, Elrond tapped his lips. "This really is very concerning."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"It does not seem that we can afford to remain in mystery for much longer," mused Glorfindel worriedly.

I got up and slipped over to the door, opening it just a crack and glancing outside, checking both sides of the corridor for signs of an eavesdropping Curumo. It was empty. Heaving a sigh of relief, I gently shut the door and walked back into the centre of the room.

"We need to send someone in secret to scope this place out," I advised them quietly. "Curumo can't know, otherwise he might delay it further, or maybe even try to sabotage our efforts in some way." I shook my head. "He is not to be trusted."

"We do not know for certain that Curumo is untrustworthy, Rhodri," Elrond replied patiently. "He may well be correct, or perhaps simply stubbornly sure of himself, and will do the right thing when concrete evidence lies before him."

I watched my best friend scan my face hesitantly, perhaps a little nervously, and I sighed. "I would love to be wrong about this," I said heavily, "But I don't think I am. Even if he were well-intentioned, if his need to be right is more important to him than carefully examining the evidence, he is not someone to be taking advice from. We already walk such a fine line between safety and total chaos that I am afraid even the slightest misstep will lead us to ruin."

My words hung in the still night air. After a moment, Olórin rose from his chair and began to speak.

"In which case, I will travel alone in secret to Dol Guldur and investigate for myself, and will return with a report when I know more."

"Are you should go by yourself, Olórin?" Glorfindel asked worriedly. "Rhodri and I could come with you." He gestured at himself and me, and we both nodded.

Olórin shook his head. "No, I fear that would make things less plausible. No, I will depart tomorrow, and everyone in the council who does not reside here should leave as well, as we would have done anyway. If our suspicions are correct, we will simply defy him and launch an attack anyway."

We all nodded, reassured that something was going to get done, even if it was on the sly.

It would be some months before Olórin returned with any news, but by the time he got back, we could already see for ourselves what had happened. The looming grey had started to vanish from the sky. The tension in the air was dissipating. A sort of curious ceasefire had settled over everything east of the Misty Mountains.

"So what happened out there, Olórin? What took you so long?" asked Glorfindel, leaning forward in his seat.

With a pensive look on his face, Olórin began to speak. "I was delayed for short periods due to bands of various creatures Sauron had lured into his service that monitored the region around the fortress. Though I do not know what they would have done had they found me. When I entered the ruins, I saw a shadow of something, and when it saw me, too, it simply… fled."

_"Fled?"_ repeated Elrond in disbelief.

Olórin nodded. "Indeed. It retreated faster than any living thing here could move, off into the east, taking the greyness with it. The sun shone clearly again, and the spies lurking around the place scattered, all apanic."

"What do you think it was, Olórin?" I broached after a moment, certain that I would hate the answer.

Olórin slowly looked over at me, his brow heavy with concern. "I do not know for certain," he admitted, "but I will say this: I am sure it had no physical form, because no mortal man could escape and move at such a pace as this thing did."

A chill blanketed the atmosphere, which contrasted so starkly with the gentle sunlight coming down from the clear sky.

"Then I suppose the period of Watchful Peace commences," Elrond murmured, not moving his fingers from his mouth as he spoke.

I swallowed hard and nodded with the others, knowing as well as they did that there was no real peace to be had from this.


	35. The beginning of the bear market

**Author's note: ** CW: This chapter will contain mention of physical trauma and touches briefly on a su*cide check. As always, please be gentle with yourself. Work within your limits, eat your vegetables where possible, have a few deep breaths, and remember that you can do the thing, whatever it is!

Also, if Valarin is mentioned, dialogue in italics is Valarin.

I honestly don't know which was worse: the ever-growing body of evidence fuelling our worried suspicions that Sauron was the likely culprit behind this, or the intolerable smugness that came from Curumo once Olórin had sent said culprit absconding into the east with his tail between his legs.

He had made a special effort to ram the fulfillment of his "all will be well" predictions down our throats, visiting Imladris especially to deliver it.

"There, you see," he said, his voice dripping with condescending self-righteousness as he addressed me, Elrond, Glorfindel, Olórin, and Celebrían in his study. "It is precisely as I said it would be."

_"I will strangle this motherfucker with his beard, I swear to god,"_ I broadcast in my head to everyone except Curumo, almost straining to keep my face neutral and my hands on the armrests of my chair.

Glorfindel let out a sudden hoot of laughter, which, naturally enough, drew the attention of all present. Shit. Alarmed, I joined in and put on a high, false laugh, Curumo watching the two of us suspiciously.

"I know, isn't it funny!" I said, not entirely keeping the panic out of my voice. "I feel so silly to have thought it was Sauron at the helm. Guess we should have listened to wise old Curumo, huh?"

As fabricated as that clearly was, it was convincing enough for Curumo, and his irritatingly good humour returned straight away.

I don't really recall anything more he said after that. I allowed myself to lapse into power-saving mode shortly after Curumo had resumed speaking, and all but the essential services (circulation, respiration, and digestion) were shut off.

It would have been lying to call the four hundred-some years that followed blissfully peaceful, but given the circumstances, life in Imladris was fortuitously calm. The seasons came and went; vegetables were harvested (with the overalls on, of course); Happy Hour was had as frequently as possible, and overall, despite the constant lingering concern, things were pretty decent.

And then, of course, things were turned on their head again, with the Watchful Peace ending when the evil presence returned to Dol Guldur. This led to another assembly of the White Council- two, in fact.

The first had been rather unremarkable and was mostly for the purpose of administrative tasks. Galadriel had proposed that Olórin be leader, and everyone else was pleased with the suggestion, but Olórin wasn't keen to get tied up in allegiances and managerial responsibilities. Curumo was incredibly sour about that, but nominated himself as leader, which I'm fairly sure the Council only allowed to shut him up.

Shortly after that Council, Elrond and Galadriel pulled me aside to deliver news that I couldn't believe had come so late.  
"It's about Olórin, Rhodri," Elrond said quietly. "But if we tell you, you cannot tell anyone."

My money was on them telling me he was gay and crushing mighty hard on Círdan. More fool me for banking on that as hard as I had, because then I gave myself away.

"He is a Maia, sent from the West," Elrond confided in me.

"Oh, that," I said, waving a hand dismissively. They both raised an eyebrow at me.

"You already knew?" Galadriel asked, her surprise clear.

I almost felt guilty about giving them a caustic look of disbelief. Almost.

"Of course I knew," I said incredulously, blinking hard. "Name one mortal race that looks like they're so old that a good shag would finish them off," I said holding up a finger, "who not only continues living, but actively travels _on foot_ over an entire continent for another _four hundred years_! I- I mean, what on earth did you _think_ he was?"

I rubbed my forehead in despair as my best friend and his mother-in-law, now speechless, exchanged shocked glances. "Olórin told me he was a Maia when we first met and asked not to tell you, but I warned him you were clever and would figure it out soon enough!" I sighed as I looked at them with affectionate exhaustion. "I love you both dearly, but _honest to god_. I need a bloody wine." That was the end of that conversation.

The second council was called by Olórin some years later, after he had done a little more probing in secret and found out that the nasty inhabitant of this squalid ruin was indeed Sauron.  
Curumo looked distinctly displeased to be present this time, but by this point, nobody was especially interested in whether or not he had a bug up his arse about having to do his job. It was in a most concerned state that Olórin had called for the meeting in the first place, and the only thing anyone wanted to do was get the details. This time, even Círdan had showed up to hear what Olórin had to say, which I got a special glee out of when I sat down in the meeting room and saw Curumo glowering at him just as he had all those years ago at the Grey Havens. He was still cut up about that damn ring! I had to force myself to keep calm as Olórin addressed us.

"My recent investigation of Dol Guldur has revealed that the Necromancer is Sauron himself," he said, skipping the niceties and salutations. "It is time for the White Council to assemble in earnest and prepare to take action. Now is the time for us to prepare to attack."

"Why would we do that?" Curumo spoke up, rising and walking over to Olórin.

"Did you miss the part where the name of the perpetrator is Sauron?" I called out, unable to stand his bullshit a moment longer. Curumo spun around and glared at me. I wasn't put off. "You know the one," I continued. "Angry, powerful guy, forged the ring, fallen Maia. He's quite well-known."

Curumo sneered at me and addressed the entire room. "And what if it is Sauron?" What have we to fear from someone who cannot even form a body of his own?"

"He is obviously gaining strength somehow," Olórin countered. "He took Thrain's ring, and I do not doubt he seeks other rings of power- his own, for example."

This was met with a fervent shake of the head and a dismissive wave from Curumo. " Sauron is nothing without the One Ring, and we all know that the Ring is gone. It probably washed down the Anduin and into the sea, never to be found again. There it will likely remain unfound until the breaking of the world."

"We cannot be certain about that," Olórin said exasperatedly. "He may have servants combing every patch of land and water for it. We should attack now, while he is weak enough to be subdued!"

"We should wait a little longer. Enough to see if this really warrants an attack on Dol Guldur," Curumo continued, not paying any attention to the pursed lips of the others.

With that, the meeting was adjourned, and with defeated sighs galore the Council filed out of the room. Inconveniently, the bottom of my faithful backpack finally gave way as I made to take it out from under my chair, sending my possessions all over the floor.

"Ah, thanks, but don't worry about this," I said to Glorfindel as he bent down to help me pick my things up. "Save me a seat at the lunch table before it fills up?"

Glorfindel gave me a smile. "Certainly. I'll wait for you there." I smiled back and watched him stroll out of the room, his hair rippling behind him like spun gold.

I took off my robe, swept my things onto it and bundled it up, slinging it over my shoulder like I was one of those people who hopped onto passing trains for an adventure. When I stepped out of the room, I saw Curumo and Olórin off to the side, arguing between themselves in Valarin.

_"Olórin,"_ Curumo said in a cold tone,_ "I think you have spent too much time with the Halflings, smoking their pipe-weed."_

Olorin said nothing, his face expressionless. And then, bless him, he took a drag on his pipe, blew a ring of smoke in Curumo's direction, and then shot out a hand and snatched it away.

_"What do you mean to imply by that?"_ Curumo demanded furiously, and rounded on him threateningly, pointing his staff at Olorin's chest. Olorin didn't move a muscle, but I was less able to control myself. In a flash, I was behind Curumo and had grabbed his hands in mine, pinning them to his back.

_"Don't even try it,"_ I whispered into his ear, feeling him vainly squirm in resistance. Curumo was too shocked to say anything, staring at me with wide eyes. I looked him up and down, curling my lip in disgust. _"Pathetic."_

_"Let him go, Vinyaten,"_ Olorin said in a gentle but firm voice, smiling at me like a kind teacher. I shot him a grin back and shoved Curumo out of my grip so that he stumbled a little. Curumo watched me closely for a moment, then with a dismissive sniff, he walked off.

_"Must be time for lunch,"_ I said to Olorin, clapping his back genially as he nodded in agreement, and together, we made for the dining hall.

The uneasy times dragged on for decades, but we tried to maintain a sense of normalcy. Trade deals continued, Glorfindel and I took the nippers camping, Bregedúr would return with news from Mirkwood, albeit much less often now. The usual sort of business. On one particular afternoon in the late summer, Glorfindel and I had gone on a walk with Elrond (Celebrían had left a week prior for Lothlórien), and we were sitting on the balcony with a wine, enjoying the sunset.

The silence was shattered by frantic yelling coming from out in the corridor. **"ADAAAAAAAA!"**

It was Elladan and Elrohir. They never made distressed noises like that. We all looked at each other in alarm and shot out of our seats and into the corridor, Elrond getting through the door first. Before Glorfindel and I could pass through the doorway, a scream came from Elrond that made my blood curdle. I had never, ever heard him make a sound like that before, but when I looked up, I could see why.

Elladan and Elrohir were both exhausted, bedraggled and covered in dried blood, and together they were carrying a deathly pale Celebrían, who lay limply in their arms, covered in blood and bruises and showing no signs of life. Glorfindel let out a horrified gasp, clapping a hand to his mouth as Elrond ran over and took her from his sons.

"She's still alive," Elrond choked, eyes wide with terror as he looked up at us. He was white as a sheet.

"We'll go ahead and ready the healing wing," I said quickly, grabbing Glorfindel and sprinting off with him down the corridors to prepare a bed and organise the right instruments and tinctures.

Elrond worked on Celebrían, who had sustained a poisoned wound in the abdomen that appeared to have spread to much of her body. Glorfindel and I assisted where we could, and when I felt it was safe to, I went to the twins, who had a large number of deep gashes and lacerations that needed urgent attention.

"Come, both of you," I said gently, guiding them onto beds of their own. They both protested, but I eased them into a reclining position.

"Shhh, it's all right," I whispered as I put a hand on each twin's shoulder. "She is right there, she knows you are here. You do not need to sleep, but you must at least get off your feet for a moment and let me have a look at your wounds."

I passed them both a small glass of Miruvor. "Drink this, then tell me what happened."

They knocked back their drinks and started to explain while I began to clean out their gashes and lacerations, which were many and quite deep.

By their reports, Celebrían had been waylaid at the Redhorn Pass by a pack of Orcs, who killed her entire escort, kidnapped her, and made off. Elladan and Elrohir had pursued them until they found her, but by that time, she had already been subjected to various kinds of torture and injury by that filthy blade. Her sons apparently had managed to wipe out the entire pack of Orcs (at substantial cost to themselves), and had ridden back with her to Imladris as fast as they could.

We worked without pause in the hospital wing until nearly midday the next day, though I am certain that it was through Elrond's efforts that Celebrían finally stabilised. She lay still, her face contorted in pain, and did not awaken for weeks. The entire time, Elrond didn't depart from her side, and could not be persuaded by a single soul to even take a mouthful of food, let alone leave the room or sleep. Glorfindel and I came in a few times a day to sit with Elrond and Celebrían for an hour in a numb, distraught silence. The only thing that persuaded us to move was to put our arms around Elrond when he dissolved into tears, which happened frequently. The rest of the day we spent keeping things running smoothly with Erestor, trying to keep some kind of order in the day, even though we knew good and well that normal was a luxury that we wouldn't see again. I threw myself into my advisor role; the clinic was closed until further notice, and everyone knew why.

Celebrían was still in her semi-comatose state when Galadriel and Celeborn arrived during one of our visits. A gentle gasp escaped both of them as they reached the doorway to her room and saw her tucked up, her complexion almost grey. Glorfindel and I got up and left them, quickly retrieving something to eat.

"Tell me she will live," Glorfindel murmured to me fearfully as we sat in my office, the door locked and gingerly picking away at some grapes.

I looked up at him sorrowfully. "Her chances are as good as they can-"

"Rhodri, _please,"_ he begged me desperately. "Suspend my disbelief a little longer! She is our best friend, and so is Elrond. You know that if she dies, we lose them both." His eyes filled with tears and he bit his finger to distract himself. I got up out of my seat and went to Glorfindel, who was trying and failing to stifle a cry. I bent down, picked him up and carried him to the couch where I sat and cradled him tightly as he broke down, sobbing into my shoulder.

I didn't even dare to entertain the thought of how close we were to losing them both. Somebody had to be that ever-composed person with half an eye on everyone, keeping the show on the road. If I did, I didn't know how well I would pull myself together again. As I stroked Glorfindel's hair, I felt myself shudder internally and I knew that the best years in Middle-Earth had finally run out.

The period that followed was uneasy at best. It was like nobody dared to breathe until they were given some sort of sign Celebrían was going to pull through, that things might be all right again. Oddly enough, though, my hope didn't grow much when Celebrían finally awoke. In fact, I don't think anyone's did. Her grey eyes had lose their sparkle, her cheeks were hollow and lacked colour, and her movements and speech lacked all conviction. Now, she spoke in a hushed monotone, constantly vigilant and in fear of everything. For all intents and purposes, she was barely alive, even with her newfound consciousness. Had she been in London, she would have undergone immediate and extensive psychiatric assessment and been put onto a raft of medications.

Looking equally as worrying was Elrond, who had only now started to permit himself to sleep and eat. He had started to wither, and looked frighteningly unlike himself, having lost an impressive amount of weight for an Elf and developed deep, dark circles under his eyes. After a few days of Celebrían being awake, Galadriel and Celeborn cajoled him into letting them sit with her awhile as he left and ate something. He made to get up but was so shaky in moving that Glorfindel and I each had to take an arm under him to guide him to his study, where we brought some food and water to him.

"Just have a couple more mouthfuls, Elrond," Glorfindel encouraged gently, pointing at Elrond's almost untouched plate.

Elrond tried to do as his best friend asked of him, but when he took a piece of bread and brought it near his mouth, he could not bring himself to eat it. He looked away from his hand in disgust, wincing uncomfortably. He looked up at me now.

"Rhodri, you will help her, won't you?" His dark blue eyes searched mine worriedly. "It is a mind problem. You are our expert. You can fix this, can't you?"

A part of me was sure that she was beyond the help of any initiative here, a thought which made me furious at myself for even indulging for a moment, but all the same, it was something I couldn't quite shake. As I held Elrond's gaze, I had to keep myself from succumbing to the urge to lie or make promises I couldn't keep, just as I had had to with Glorfindel in my office.

"I'll make you a watertight guarantee, Elrond," I said as I held his gaze. "Every assistance I can possibly afford is at Celebrían's disposal, unconditionally and without limit. Of that you can be absolutely sure, and I will work tirelessly to keep it that way."

"... You are not sure you can heal her?" he said, his voice trembling a little.

I sighed. "I have not made any assessment as yet, so I cannot be certain of anything." The truth was so ugly sometimes. Hideous in its ambiguity, shapeless, lacking in any offer of stability, and yet this is what Elrond clung to.

"Here's what we'll do," I said gently. "I'll talk to her tonight and see if we can't get the ball rolling with things, all right? And in the interim, we'll take it one day at a time. We won't gaze too far into the future. We'll focus on what's happening right here, right now, and what's coming will make itself apparent in time. For now, though, we have today to get through."

Glorfindel nodded supportively and put an arm around Elrond, who propped his head up in one hand, still fighting with himself to eat the piece of bread.

That night was the first night Elrond slept a little. Worried that Celebrían wouldn't sleep well, I headed to the hospital wing with my guitar in tow and found her wide awake, trembling in her bed.

"Celebrían?" I called out gently as I knocked on the door. "It's Rhodri. Do you want some company?"

I saw a big pair of silver eyes flash in the dimness as Celebrían nodded. I ventured inside and pulled up a chair beside her, taking one of her hands in mine. It was freezing to the touch, and I sandwiched it between both of my hands to warm it up.

"How are you faring, my lovely?"

"I am trapped in a nightmare," she said in her lifeless voice, looking at me wearily. "I cannot rest, I find no comfort in anything. There is nothing left for me any more, nothing worth living for."

That wasn't reassuring. "Are you thinking of hurting yourself, Celebrían?" I asked her in a soft but serious voice.

Celebrían shook her head. "No, I am hurt enough," she uttered breathlessly, "but I cannot deny that I expend great effort in keeping my fea and body together." My heart plunged as I heard that, but I forced a calm exterior.

"You know, Celebrían, a large part of my work before coming to Middle-Earth was helping people process and come to terms with traumatic events. Do you think you might be interested in giving it a try yourself, see if it helps?"

"Do you think you can heal me?" she murmured, eyes watering as she bit her lip a little.

"I'd give anything to give it a try," I said, squeezing her hand gently.

She sat quietly for a moment, and then nodded. "But not tonight," she said in a fearful tone. "Not in the night."

"That's fine," I said with a reassuring nod. "We'll do it whenever you want, wherever you want. You call the shots entirely."

"Don't leave me alone, Rhodri," she whispered, pulling the blankets up to her chin like a small child.

"Oh, you can be sure of that," I promised as I tucked the sheets firmly at her sides. "I'll be here until Elrond arrives."

"I won't be sleeping tonight, I don't think," she mumbled. "But I'm too tired to talk."

"Not to worry," I said with a small smile. "How about a little music, huh? I brought my guitar."

She nodded. I picked up my guitar with one free hand, and though Celebrían didn't notice she was doing it, she refused to let go of my other hand. I moved my chair right beside her and carefully shifted her hand so that it held onto the crook of my arm instead. In that position, we played the night away, pausing only for song requests.


	36. Alea iacta est

**Author's note:** CW: This chapter contains sex, violence (though not sexual violence), torture, and general awfulness.

When Elrond came in before dawn the next morning, I was relieved to see he looked a little better. His face had a little more colour in it and the rings under his eyes had started to fade.

"Hello, mate," I greeted him with a smile as I stopped my gentle strumming of the guitar. "No sleep this last night, so we sat up and had some music instead. Do you want me to fetch you two anything before I head out?"

They both shook their heads, though Elrond did so fluidly while Celebrían moved in a rather jerky, robotic fashion.

"I'll stop by this afternoon," I said to Celebrían, giving her hand a small squeeze as I got up, and with a last wave to them both, I headed out.

Elrond's lack of appetite seemed contagious. To my surprise, I found myself eschewing breakfast, the smell of stone-baked bread emanating from the kitchens not tempting me in the slightest as I made my way to my office.

At my desk, I took out Celebrían's file and started writing in it all the information about the event Elladan and Elrohir had imparted. When that was complete, I took out a clutch full of blank paper and filled page after page with possible treatment pathways.

I had not bothered to keep a track of the time while I was in there. It had evidently been quite a few hours, though, because a knock sounded at the door that I instantly recognised to be Glorfindel's. When I called out that the door was unlocked, he opened it and I could see out behind him that it was late afternoon already. Glorfindel stepped inside hesitantly, looking very subdued and nervous.

"Hey there, sunshine," I said with a soft smile, hoping to reassure him a little. A tiny smile tugged at one corner of his mouth that was extinguished as quickly as it had appeared. I took the stack of notes I had written, placed them in Celebrían's file, and returned the file to the drawer which I locked with a _click._

I rose from my chair and made my way to Glorfindel, who was still standing near the doorway, watching me silently. Reaching around behind him, I gently closed the door and latched it. I took him by the hands and guided him over to the couch and sat him down, taking my own spot beside him.

"How was Celebrían?" Glorfindel asked as he gently pulled me to him.

"She didn't sleep a wink," I answered as I settled my head on his chest. "But I wouldn't have called her a hundred percent awake, either. She seems to be very numb. How was Elrond?"

"Not much better," lamented Glorfindel. "I could not persuade him to take more than a bite of anything at breakfast this morning, so I made sure the one mouthful he _did _have was lembas."

I shot him the thumbs up. That was a solid plan. "And what of you, then, hmm?" I continued.

Glorfindel let out a puff of air. "I did not sleep much. It is the first time in a long time I have slumbered in a bed without you in it, and I did not enjoy it at all."

I nodded. "I missed it, too," I said quietly, shaking my head at the chaos of it all. "These weeks have gone by in a blur. What a nightmare of a time it's been, and we're not even the ones most deeply affected. I don't know what I'd have done if-"

"Don't say it," whispered Glorfindel as he clutched me tightly and buried his face in my hair. "Don't even think it." His breaths grew shallower. I shifted into his lap and took his head in my hands, brushing the tears off his cheeks with my thumbs.

"We are both well," I reminded him. He kept his eyes focused on the bookcase beside him. "Glorfindel, look at me," I bid. He reluctantly tore his gaze away and slowly met my eyes, and I watched him carefully. "And even if we weren't, we would weather it, just as Elrond and Celebrían will."

Glorfindel didn't say anything, resting a hand on my face, frowning ever so slightly.

I raised an eyebrow. "You know I'm right."

He nodded and his soft blue eyes flicked down to my mouth. I smiled and rested my forehead against his, and he slowly tilted his jaw upwards, gently but insistently pressing his lips to mine for the first time since all of this had happened.

I gave into temptation and pressed back softly, which seemed to be the only cue Glorfindel needed to deepen the kiss- and he did, quickly and entreatingly. His hands didn't settle anywhere, switching from my face to my back to my own hands and back to my face again. I moved one of my own hands from his face to the narrowest part of his waist to pull him close like I was afraid he would float away, which prompted a staccato exhalation from him. The fact that we had unknowingly both starved ourselves of affection while we devoted our energies to supporting Celebrían and Elrond had, it appeared, finally come to a head.

The dangerous emotional cocktail of loneliness and arousal made our kisses uncharacteristically short, uneven, fraught, and entirely silent, not a moan or laugh to be heard from either of us. I shifted one of my legs so that I straddled him, our torsos pressing against each other, our hearts hammering through all the layers of clothing. He put a hand on the small of my back and slid me closer to him, eliciting a small gasp from me as my undercarriage gently pressed against the hardness at the front of his pants.

I broke the kiss a moment and watched Glorfindel, my eyes glancing from where our attention-seeking erogenous zones were concealed up to his face as I searched for some sign of what he wanted. Glorfindel seemed to be doing the same, his sapphire eyes wide as he cautiously scrutinised me. I gave a tiny nod, my eyes locking on his, which he returned. Wordlessly, we untied the leather straps on each other's pants and slipped them down without moving off each other.

Glorfindel pulled me into another kiss, and with his hands on my hips, guided me closer and eased into me. Our breathing snagged at the same time; he wrapped one arm around me, sandwiching me to him, the other hand supporting me underneath as he started to gently grind us together. I matched his rhythm and we picked up the pace, moving in a synchrony of quick, silent desperation as we tried to displace the overwhelming stress and anguish that gripped us. I dug my fingers into Glorfindel's back. He had a fine perspiration condensing on his temples as he rode me hard against him now. Moments later, we came together, with soft, voiceless gasps escaping us between the periods where we sought each other's lips. Minutes again after that, we were decently dressed and fast asleep on the couch, our limbs tangled in a chaotic sprawl which didn't unravel until the next morning.

Though said office couch was perfectly clean, I felt so awkward about what had happened that I ended up swapping it out that day with the one in our bedroom, which did _not _have emergency loneliness sex ground into it.

Celebrían asked me to come to her study the day after that, which I gladly obliged, showing up with her file and plenty of paper.

"Do you really think this will help?" she asked me again, her voice as empty as ever.

"I'd give anything to try," I repeated with the same smile. "I'll need to ask you a few questions so I can be sure of what I'm working with, but if I could, I'd like to get a little bit of background from you as to what happened first."

Celebrían looked pained at my request, brow furrowing and her eyes shutting tightly.

"You don't have to get it all out in one go," I said. "We can take plenty of breaks and do things that will help you relax. All you need to do is say when you've had enough, and we'll stop there, all right? How does that sound?"

She took a deep breath, let it out, and nodded gingerly. After taking a moment to collect herself, she began to speak.

"We had just reached the Redhorn Pass. Things had been very peaceful until then, but as if they had come out of nowhere, a horde of about twelve Orcs ambushed us. I was seized by four of the most powerful ones, who grabbed me each by one limb, and they carried me away as the others killed my entire escort. I tried to fight, but I could not overpower them." Celebrían winced and stifled a sob. "I could hear them screaming as the Orcs hacked at their limbs before finally giving them fatal wounds. They… they intentionally dragged it out to make them suffer…"

I closed my eyes for a moment in horror, but quickly composed myself, noting this all down.

"Where they took me, I do not know," she continued slowly. "They had blindfolded and gagged me around halfway through the journey. When we finally stopped, they tied my limbs together, lifted me up as high as they could and dropped me onto a hard path covered with sharp, jagged stones that I am certain broke some of my ribs when I landed on them. I could not breathe without pain, and it made it impossible to scream- not that I could with that gag in my mouth, anyway."

By this point, Celebrían was trembling like a leaf, what little colour she had now having completely drained from her face.

"If you're feeling overwhelmed, remember you can pause or end the session at any time," I reminded her gently.

Celebrían sniffed. "I have been weak enough," she rasped, evident disdain for how she had handled the situation in her tone.

"Celebrían, I don't believe you have been weak in any of this," I said, shaking my head firmly.

Her face twisted into a snarl. "Had I been even a hint braver, I might have stopped what happened next," she spat scornfully.

"I won't tell you how to feel," I replied, "but I _do _think it would be well to keep in mind that four against one makes for _incredibly_ unfair odds. Would you like to proceed, or are you ready for a break?"

"Oh, there were more than four," Celebrían replied, glossing over my question. "The ones who survived killing off my escorts followed them."

"Did you ever see how many there were?" I asked.

"Not see, no, but hear and smell, yes. They all had turns torturing me, and because they came back for more turns later, the number eight is cemented in my mind."

"Tell me about what happened when they tortured you."

Celebrían leaned back in her chair, eyes focused on something far off and her voice turning hollow again as she spoke of the things she was subjected to, first while gagged and blindfolded, and then once they had removed the blindfold. My hand flew across the page as she named the atrocities committed against her, and I could honestly say that in all my years of practice, both in London and Middle-Earth, I had never heard someone undergo so much prolonged suffering and not die of it.

Among the things she listed were: repeated stranglings, being dragged over hot coals, beatings (with fists, blunt, and sharp objects), whippings, various shallow and deep knife woundings, and what seemed like a primitive form of waterboarding. All of these had been carried out over several days, without pause, wavering in intensity from mild to severe. As I understood it, they had intended to progressively wound her in various ways until her body was beyond repair, in such a way as to inflict the most pain possible in the meantime. She described the process to me as similar to dropping fruit on the ground multiple times, where it first softens, then bruises, then interiorly disintegrates, and finally ruptures. I could feel the bile in my throat as she relayed this analogy to me, and had to have a few sips of water to keep my stomach from totally rebelling.

On top of that, the Orcs knew who she was, and used it to their advantage in exacting abhorrent psychological abuse on her. They taunted her by saying that they had another band of Orcs waylaying her sons and delighted in outlining the ways in which they would be similarly persecuted and murdered. They also spoke of the ways in which she herself would eventually be killed, never failing to add that Elrond was sure to die horribly as a consequence.

What I had expected to take four sessions with breaks to cover, she did in one afternoon. Where she drew the reserves to speak for so long without passing out or attempting to harm herself was beyond me. I barely had enough in me to listen to her accounts of these monstrous acts, but I had made a promise to Elrond that for as long as she wanted my services, I would give them.

Thankfully, once the backstory had been divulged, we were able to start with assessments for various disorders, but I suggested that we start with that in the next session. Celebrían found, understandably, that she didn't have the strength to walk very far after that, and explicitly did not want to be left alone, so I opened the door into the corridor and we sat together, me strumming on the guitar, until Elrond came in half an hour later. When he arrived, I took my leave of both of them, making for my office to lock away Celebrían's file and spend a good hour sitting and unbottling all the emotions I had pent up over the afternoon.

That, however, was not to be, because when I was on the home stretch for the clinic, I espied two dark-haired figures standing by the office door. Alerted by my footsteps, they turned around.

"Hello there, nippers," I said with a small, tired smile. "Were you looking for me?"

They both nodded. "May we come into your office with you?" Elladan asked.

"Most definitely," I replied.

I opened the door and invited them inside, closing the door behind me.

"What's happening, eh?" I enquired as I put Celebrían's file in the drawer and locked it.

"We want someone to talk to," Elladan replied quietly.

"Ada is too busy looking after Naneth, and our grandparents are also quite preoccupied, it seems," Elrohir added.

I nodded. "That is quite understandable," I said. "This entire thing has been a nightmare from start to finish, not least for you two. Tell me, what is it you're after? Do you want a psychologist, or do you want an aunt?"

"Aunt," they answered automatically. I nodded.

"Come and sit with your Auntie Rhodri on the couch, then, and tell me everything." We walked over to the sofa and I sat between the two of them. They linked their arms through mine and rested their heads on my shoulders, something they hadn't done since they were children.

"Naneth is not well at all," Elladan murmured quietly.

"Well, no, you're right there, but thanks to the two of you reaching her as quickly as you did," I replied, "she is very much out of the danger zone in a physical sense, and that was the most immediate risk to her life."

Elrohir shook his head. "We came too late even then."

That was a baffling thing to hear, especially given my last remark. "What do you mean by that?" I prompted him gently.

Elrohir sighed unsteadily and said, "Had we made it earlier, we might have at least spared her some of that misery."

"We should have insisted on riding with her," Elladan insisted, smacking his knee with a closed fist angrily. "We should have known that the risk could be there!"

"Or at least gone ahead as scouts, cleared the path or made her turn back," his brother agreed in sorrowful contrition. "She didn't deserve this."

"Hey," I said, squeezing their arms in mine. "Of course she didn't deserve it, but none of what you did would have been enough to stop this from happening."

"It should have been us," Elladan said thickly. He let out a small whimper and leaned away from me, hiding his face in the crook of his arm.

"Oh, hey," I whispered as I unlinked my arm and draped it over his shoulder. "Look, you two need to know that absolutely none of this is your fault." I took the arm around Elrohir and wrapped it around his shoulder, and gently dragged them both over to me.

I didn't say anything more for a moment as they buried their faces into my shoulder, and waited for them to regain their composure.

"Listen," I said when their faces finally resurfaced. "You need to think very carefully about how you process this situation, because otherwise you are going to be unnecessarily flogging yourselves, and for what?" I sighed. "This could have happened on any of the journeys your mother took to Lothlórien over the last thousand years. She took the standard precautions, and for once, it wasn't enough."

"Exactly!" choked Elladan furiously. "We should have known better."

"What indication did you have that this would happen, hm?" I looked at them both, and they looked back at me like they wanted to argue but had nothing to substantiate a rebuttal. "Nothing, exactly. It's not like you knew this was coming and decided to ignore the warnings. Don't approach this thinking you could foresee any of this, otherwise you'll eventually believe it, and once you start believing it, you'll suffer so much more than what you already do."

They said nothing for a while.

"Do you trust my judgement?" I asked them.

Elladan and Elrohir nodded.

"Enough to believe me when I say that you're not at fault for this?"

They glanced at each other, then at me, and hesitantly shrugged.

"You won't believe it wholeheartedly at first. But you're a good team, you two. Work together in reminding each other that it's not your fault, walking each other through that logical pathway I mentioned before: if you knew, you would have stopped it, but you didn't, so you couldn't. You both showed exemplary bravery as soon as you knew what had happened, and it was precisely _that_ that saved your mother."

I swelled with pride as I clapped them on the shoulders, scarcely able to believe that these were the same Elflings who would sit on my lap and tell me grandiose tales about the bugs in the garden. The sweet, funny kids who were now the sombre adults left reeling by horrific circumstances. "You have every reason to be truly proud of yourselves. The only blameworthy subjects were the Orcs who did this. Go over that until it sticks. Got it?"

They sighed, a more accepting look coming over their faces now. At last, they nodded. I gave them both an affectionate squeeze, and said, "Good. Now, as your aunt, I firmly advise that you make your way to the kitchens and ask for a slice of cake each. And make them big slices, too. None of this airy-fairy half a doorstop business. Eat it all and relax for the evening, let everything settle a bit, and then come back and talk more whenever you need it, all right?"

Another nod, and with amused smiles, they departed.

I heaved a sigh, feeling an awful mixture of sadness, anger, exhaustion, and despondency fill me up. There was a good reason why psychologists weren't supposed to treat loved ones, I thought to myself as I left the office to find Glorfindel and pester him to get cake with me.


	37. Brave new world

The next appointment for Celebrían came a day later, and with an even heavier file in tow, I made my way up to her study. I reached the doorway before she noticed I was there, and I saw her sitting in an armchair Elrond had placed by the window. She gazed outside listlessly, her expression blank- bored, almost- as though she were seeing nothing at all.

I knocked gently on the door jamb. "Celebrían?"

Slowly, she stirred from her lassitude. "Oh, Rhodri, hello," she murmured. "Come in."

I entered, closing the door behind me, and took a seat near her. "How are you?"

She gave me a torpid smile and shook her head gently. "I don't even know where I am any more, let alone how I am." Noticing my enquiring look, Celebrían elaborated. "Nothing feels the same any more. This cannot be the place I have called home all these yén. There is no warmth to it, no life, no… appeal."

"What remains of it, then?" I asked as I took out my notes and scribbled a few words down.

"I do not know," she whispered, glancing at me fearfully. "It is so empty here. It looks the same, but is bereft of everything."

"What happens when you think of happy memories here?"

Celebrían cocked her head to the side a little and stared off into the distance as she said, "I know intellectually that they are happy, but the feeling is just out of my reach."

"Have you felt any happiness since you woke up here? Any at all?"

"None," she admitted in a monotone, eyes still fixed on the nothingness to my right.

"How about feeling upset?"

"Mmm… not unless I think about what happened."

"What happens then?"

She winced. "It becomes unbearable. I relive it all."

It seemed, at this point, that a diagnosis of severe post-traumatic stress disorder was on the cards.

"How often do you have these moments where you relive the experience, Celebrían?" I asked.

"Many times a day. And in the night, too, but in dreams- when I actually manage to sleep, that is."

"Not getting much rest, huh?" I murmured back. She shook her head.

"Almost none. I am exhausted, but too terrified to fall asleep." The tiredness was plain: her head was leaning on the side of the armchair, as though she were too weak to hold it up, and the rest of her body was so languidly sprawled that she gave the impression of having melted where she sat.

"Are you getting up to much during the day?" I asked as I made notes about her posture.

Celebrían declined. "I am afraid to be outside. Sometimes I walk in the corridors here, or stroll around the room when I have a little energy, but I don't want to be near things that remind me of it, and it seems that reminders are everywhere." She let out a miserable sigh, rubbing her brow a little.

"Everywhere?"

"Yes. I cannot read books, because I do not want to see maps or mentions of Lothlorien, or of Orcs, or of anything to do with journeys or torture. But those are inescapable. I cannot go outside, because the outdoors is where I was kept captive. I hate water now. I cannot stand the gardens, even." She heaved a dry sob that was like a stab to my gut to hear, and gently hit the armrest of her chair with a closed fist. "It all fills me with fright and misery."

"What about seeing or hearing things that aren't there? Anything like that happening?" I asked, anxious to finish the assessment to spare her the pain of reviewing all this.

"No, nothing like that," she confirmed.

"I see. Well, from what you've told me, it seems that you're experiencing some rather severe post-traumatic stress. Those moments where you relive the horrific moments are called 'flashbacks,' and they're very common in this kind of disorder. There are a lot of different therapeutic exercises we can do to try and manage how often the flashbacks crop up, and that will make it easier for you to do the things you started to avoid because of how they reminded you of the bad memories- and enjoy them, too, what's more. Are you interested in giving it a go?"

Celebrían gave me a small, resigned smile. "I have my doubts that this will improve, Rhodri."

"What make you say that?" I asked, my confusion apparent.

She said nothing for a moment as she closed her eyes and shook her head sadly.

"Celebrían," I said quietly as I shifted my chair a little closer to hers, "You can tell me about your doubts. The therapy I've used to help people deal with traumatic events has been very effective in the past, and it's important that you don't enter therapy with any misconceptions. This process won't be instant, but I do really think you will feel the benefit after a while."

"It isn't about that, Rhodri," she murmured.

"What is it about, then?"

She opened her mouth a little like she had planned on saying something, but then closed it.

"Celebrían?" I prompted.

Celebrían looked at me with weary affection. "Never mind," she said. "Let's try the therapy and see if it helps a little."

I nodded quickly. "Absolutely. Do you have the wherewithal to start today?"

"As much as I ever will, I think," she answered with a hint of glum wryness to it.

"In that case, let's get started," I said with a smile.

Phase one of therapy for Celebrían, I decided, should focus on getting good sleep. Even though Elves' need for sleep was fairly low (read: 2-3 hours a night), she was probably getting that much in a week, and it showed on her face and in her movements. She would not be able to concentrate as well on other therapies with such a paucity of time spent at rest. What was holding her back from a decent night's slumber, it seemed, was the issue of recurrent nightmares, much like the ones Glorfindel experienced- vivid re-enactments of what had happened.

As with Glorfindel's problem, I started Celebrían on imagery rehearsal therapy, and for the rest of the session, we wrote out the synopses of her various nightmares and thought up alternative endings for them. We were at it for about 3 hours, after which I said, "Well, we've spent an awfully long time fleshing this stuff out. I think we should call it a day for now. Before you go to bed, start reading the alternative endings. Read them so that you drift off to sleep thinking about them. Try it for a couple of days and see if it doesn't improve your sleep, all right? Make some notes when you wake up and we'll keep track of it."

She briefly perused the list of alternate dream endings we'd recorded together and nodded, looking somewhat unconvinced. I frowned inwardly. It wasn't like Celebrían to be so sceptical of things, but so much of how she behaved was unlike her now that it just seemed like another thing to throw on the pile.

Even so, though, I couldn't help but dwell on her doubts when I left after Elrond had come in to sit with her. I tried to disabuse myself of the idea that there was anything more behind it than simple tiredness, but it didn't seem to work. Something about her seemed confident that therapy wouldn't cut it.

After pacing the halls agitatedly for an hour as I chewed it over, I decided I would leave it be for a month and wait for the first signs of progress to emerge before I mentioned it to Celebrían again.

By the time that month had passed, though, the expected signs still hadn't even shown the vaguest inkling of existing, or even planning to exist.

"There hasn't been any reduction in nightmare quantity or scariness, it seems," I murmured to her as I looked through her month-long sleep journal.

Celebrían shook her head in a jagged fashion, like there was a glitch in her system. "No, there has not," she confirmed. "I sleep as poorly and fitfully as ever."

I tapped my face with my pencil. "It's not wholly impossible that it will take a little longer to work, but I tell you what, how about we start incorporating some other techniques into the programme?"

"What did you have in mind?" she asked.

"Well, you've had a hard time doing things you used to enjoy because they invariably remind you of your kidnapping, so we could look at ways to stop you from associating those happy things with your trauma."

As if right on cue, her face was almost expressionless except for a slight twitch of her eyebrows- that same doubting look as before. She seemed to catch herself, though, and shook her head a little, like she was trying to physically dislodge the thought.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," I said.

"It was nothing," Celebrían mumbled.

"It didn't seem like nothing," I replied with a knowing smile, raising my eyebrow a little.

"I… feel wounded still," she confessed.

"Do you mean in a non-physical sense?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Tell me about it?"

Celebrían sighed. "I don't think I can."

"Do you mean you are unable to because you lack the ability to elaborate, or because you do not wish to?" I probed.

She shook her head firmly, indicating that that part of the discussion was over. "Tell me more about what you had in mind for this therapy programme," she requested.

"Well," I said thoughtfully, "perhaps we could work on that scared feeling you get when you try doing things you used to enjoy. We'd use a technique called 'prolonged exposure therapy.' Essentially, we gradually build you up so that you can confront what is causing you anxiety. We'd start with you retelling the story of your kidnapping a number of times, and then later on we would work up to things like reading books with references to things that set you off, and then on to going outside. Eventually we might even try making a trip to Lothlorien."

Celebrían was silent for a while, her gleamless grey eyes uneasily switching between me and the window to my right. I sat and waited for her to process her thoughts, and eventually, she reluctantly murmured, "Very well."

I frowned a little. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to, Celebrían. I do think that this can help you, but you won't have much benefit at all, if any, if you're doing this against your will."

"No, I want to try it," she said half-heartedly.

"It is a very emotionally demanding process, and that can seem quite intimidating from the outset, but you set the pace, and we'll take as many breaks as you need throughout. You won't be pushed into the deep end, all right? And if you decide it's too much, we can try plenty of other therapy techniques."

Another slow nod.

"What do you say we leave it here for now, and we'll get started on this tomorrow?" I asked her.

"All right," she assented quietly.

She was still afraid to be left on her own, so we stayed in the room, me strumming the trusty guitar until Elrond arrived.

In the middle of all the stress with Celebrían's seemingly progress-bereft treatments, there was also a lot of work to contend with as Elrond's advisor. Numerous trade deals had been disrupted as our key partners in Rohan and Gondor anticipated invasion shortly from the Easterlings, a group living to the east of Mordor who were apparently fairly chummy with Sauron et al. A sign, in short, that at best, our wheat and tomato supplies were about to dwindle, and at worst, that Sauron had yet more bullshit in store for us.

As I lay awake in bed that night, my mind was racing with thoughts about Celebrían's mysterious ambivalence and the idea that with a sudden drop in supplies, that an emergency pizza could soon be out of my reach. So far as I could see, my attempts to maintain a sense of normalcy amidst all this chaos were futile. And then it hit me: perhaps that was where I was going wrong. Perhaps I ought to have been carving out a new normal rather than trying to cling onto the shreds of what remained. At that moment, an idea hit me.

"Are you awake, Glorfindel?" I whispered urgently, my eyes huge as I stared up at the ceiling.

"Mmm," he confirmed quietly. "I can't seem to fall asleep."

I rolled over quickly and faced him. "Let's do something wild," I said excitedly.

He propped himself up on one elbow and watched me with a slightly amused expression. "What did you have in mind?"

"Trampoline diving," I said with conviction.

His eyes widened in the dimness, and I could have sworn I saw them sparkle.  
"Oh, yes," he enthused, smiling from ear to ear.

Without another word, we threw off the blankets, snatched up the hammock, and ran downstairs and out to the pools. We hadn't even bothered to change out of our pyjamas or put on shoes.

When we reached the pools, there wasn't a soul around. We quickly put on some swim suits and made our way to the biggest, deepest pool- about the size of an Olympic swimming pool, and around ten metres deep. Just right for the shenanigans I had in mind.

"Now, where's a good tree…" I mumbled to myself as I scanned the perimeter of the pool.

"How about this one?" called Glorfindel from over by a mighty oak tree.

"Well spotted," I said jovially as I marched over and tied one end to a strong but bendy looking branch that was close by the water.

"You ready for an exciting time?" I asked Glorfindel. I gestured grandly at the now-ready trampoline with my free hand, my other one clutching the other end of the hammock.

Glorfindel grinned and one graceful jump later, he was in the middle of the trampoline, bouncing smoothly.

"How high do you want to go?" I shouted to him as I rhythmically flicked my end up to launch him skywards. He slowly climbed in altitude with each successive jump.

"How high can you send me?" he yelled back, a wild look lighting up his features.

"Don't ask the Maia of Tulkas how far they can launch you, beloved!" I hollered with a laugh.

"A fair point," he loudly conceded. "How about up to the top of the tree?"

"Consider it done!"

Instead of flicking the hammock upwards, pulled it up toward me so that Glorfindel shot outwards instead of straight up, and he managed to execute two and a half twists before landing in the water. I whooped and clapped and stomped my feet as he bobbed to the surface, swam to the edge, and climbed out. His long hair stuck to him like a gold morph suit, shining bright in the moonlight, and he was beaming at me excitedly.

"That was amazing," he exclaimed, gesticulating animatedly. "We should do this all night!"

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm up for it if you are," I said with a wicked smile.

It was only when the sun came up that we realised we had to make a dash for the indoors again, lest earlybird Elrond catch us skulking around his nice, wholesome halls, wet as shags and in our pyjamas. Times were strange enough already.


	38. Where the diagnosis wasn't

**Author's note:** CW: this chapter contains a descriptive episode of a PTSD flashback. Please note that _none_ of the stories I write ever describe, or even mention sexual violence in any way. Any adult-themed things are enthusiastically consensual.  
Also, excuse the general reply to folks' comments, but: heya! Thanks for reading this stuff. I hope wherever you are, you're keeping safe and being kind to yourself. Don't look to this fanfic stuff for medical advice, but if you notice any symptoms in any of these chapters that line up with you and you're worried, see a doctor if you haven't already. Help is available, and you deserve it!

The months trickled by without any hint of progress for Celebrían in therapy. Still stuck in the first phase of treatment, she struggled recounting her trauma the tenth time as much as she had the first, and there was no hint of being desensitised at all. By the twentieth, there was still no difference, and I was left baffled.

Alongside the prolonged exposure therapy, I had tried to weave in a few other techniques to help her manage the stress she was feeling at any given moment, like breathing and muscle relaxation exercises. Even then, there was no hint of improvement. Nothing she did was enjoyable; nothing offered any relief from her symptoms. She gave the impression of being perpetually imprisoned in her trauma.

If anything, things seemed to be getting worse. She ate even less than the already pitiful amount she consumed, and her diet was fast becoming 100% lembas based. It's hard to describe how frightening a wasting Elf looks. Humans are worrying enough to watch in those conditions, but ageing does inevitably take a toll on their appearance of vitality. Elves are in a consistent state of hale and heartiness from birth until their eternal adulthood and are totally immune to diseases. They're almost impossible to imagine any other way, and to see them unwell is a jarring experience indeed.

Things came to a head about eleven months into treatment, at which point I had tried almost every technique I could think of without any results whatsoever. After another session that had left Celebrían exhausted, I suggested that we take a short walk through the corridors and count the stained glass windows, both as a means of distraction and also to get her out of that study, where she seemed to spend most of her waking hours. She agreed, and we set off.

"It's amazing how much you discover when you're actually looking out for it," I said to her as we stopped and examined our tenth window, an intricate, dazzling lead light depicting Manwë and Varda in all their semi-deific glory.

"I made this one," Celebrían said with a vague gesture at it.

"Wow," I breathed. "It's stunning. Must have taken an age to make."

"Oh, only five, six weeks," she replied with a shrug.

I smiled to myself as I thought about the stained glass window I had hanging in my apartment back in London: a leadlight portraying the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

"What are you thinking of?" Celebrían asked, noticing my silly grin.

I told her about the stained glass window I used to own, and a brief mention of the Flying Spaghetti Monster (taking care to omit the word 'monster').  
"You mean you and your people would worship food?" Celebrían raised an eyebrow and had she had the capacity for it, she would have roared laughing.

I glanced from side to side. I personally didn't worship it, but I sure as hell got a kick out of a bowl of pasta being iconised. "In a manner of speaking, yes," I murmured, feeling slightly nervous that I was the only person in an entire population who had possessed such a thing. Celebrían shook her head a little and pat me on the shoulder absent-mindedly before we moved on.

As we turned the corner, we saw one of the gardeners walking toward us with a rather large potted tree- a cedar sapling that was found in the regions south of Imladris that was probably ready to be put outside.

And just like that, catching sight of the tree, Celebrían's composure totally dissolved. She let out a piercing scream that could probably have been heard from Valinor and crumpled onto the floor, shielding her head as she curled her thin frame into a tight ball. Her body shook as loud, inconsolable sobs came out. Doors in the hallway started flying open as people burst out to find the source of the noise.

"Celebrían," I said clearly as I dropped to my knees beside her. I held up a hand to ask the onlookers to go about their business.

"Celebrían," I said again evenly when there was a break in her wailing. "It's Rhodri, Celebrían. You're in Imladris and having a flashback right now."

And then, the strangest thing started to happen. Her normal voice, full of the warmth and vigour she had before, started to speak, calm but imperative.

"No," she said. "Stay. Please."

Was… was she talking to me? I frowned in confusion. "I'm right here, Celebrían." I reassured her. "I won't leave your side."

Her howling resumed, more tortured than ever. Her fingers dug into her forehead so hard I had to move them away gently before she broke the skin open.

"Celebrían, I need to hold your hands so you don't hurt yourself. You are safe right now. You are having a flashback," I repeated. "You saw a tree and it set off a reaction. You are in Imladris with Rhodri."

I was alerted by the sound of hurried footsteps and looked up to see Elrond running as fast as he could toward us. Concerned that his display of alarm might further upset Celebrían, I held up a hand and gestured for him to slow down.

"Gently, meldir," I whispered when he dropped the pace to a walk and approached me. "You must be calm and even-tempered. She is reliving a traumatic memory, and needs quiet reassurance."

Elrond's terrified face was forced into some sort of equanimity as he bent down beside me.

"Celebrían?" he said in a hushed voice. He leaned in further and repeated her name until she looked up, tear-stained and quivering. I let go of her hands now that I was sure she wouldn't scratch her face off.

"Elrond," she murmured, holding out a hand which he quickly took. He looked at her tenderly and I had every reason to believe I could hear his heart breaking in the silence that followed.

"Might be time for a rest, Celebrían," I said with a small smile. "It's starting to get late now."

Celebrían and Elrond both nodded. Elrond scooped Celebrían up in his arms, and together we walked back to her study, where I retrieved her file and, saying goodnight, went to my office and shut the door.

Locking her file up, I sat at my desk and drummed my fingers on it as I considered the situation at hand. Her treatment was not having even the slightest effect- not emotionally, behaviourally, or even thought patterns. Not a thing had changed since she first woke up, and I had no idea what to do about it. I had never had a client who had nonstop symptoms of post-traumatic stress for almost a whole year. How was this even possible?

I stood up and started looking through my books on the shelf, none of which were very useful at this sort of thing. There was usually something relevant and of interest to be found in something there, but this time, instead of a repository of knowledge, all I could see were stacks of paper. There was something not quite right about this situation.

Unfortunately, though, I had nobody to speak with. Whom would I tell?

I scuffed my foot against the rug and plunged my hands into my pockets. The entire thing was most odd. Had I missed something? Was her case so severe that symptoms might not even start to remit for centuries? _That _would have been disastrous. We hadn't even gotten to the most unsteady times yet. She would be seeing and hearing about a lot more triggers than now, and they would be far more frightening than a potted tree in the corridor.

My contemplations kept me in my office until late into the night, long after everyone had gone to bed. In need of a change but still not ready for bed, I locked up my office and made for the observation deck.

There was no need for a lamp up there; the unobscured moon and stars glowed radiantly, bathing everything in a silvery light. I watched my breath condense in the chilly winter air, trying and failing to blow fog rings like Olórin had.

I flicked a small stone off the deck, for the first time feeling resentment. A Maia sent to Middle-Earth to provide assistance for mental issues? Who then can't even marginally improve a case of post-traumatic stress? What kind of Mickey mouse establishment was behind all of this, anyway?

_"This really is terribly cruel of you, you know," _I murmured coolly in Valarin. Originally, I had meant for it to simply be a cathartic siphoning of thoughts, but by the end of the sentence, I was beseeching my would-be Vala, Irmo. "_She shouldn't suffer like this." _I shook my head as Celebrían's terrified screams echoed in my ears.

"_Have compassion, Irmo," _I implored, standing up and staring intently at the sky. "_I've exhausted every option I can think of now. It's been months. You fought Tulkas tooth and nail to convince him to let you tutor me. Now's the time, I need your mentoring. I need new tools. Help me out here."_

The sky didn't rumble and have a majestic being materialise in the clouds. There was no voice in my head. Hell, not even a butterfly landed on my shoulder. The night was as still and quiet as ever, my exhaled mist dissipating before my eyes. I sighed in resignation and leaned against the balustrade, feeling totally helpless as I racked my brains for the hundredth time for any diagnostic hint I might have missed.

"I thought you might be here," came a low, mellifluous voice from behind me. I got such a shock as I was jerked out of my thoughts that I jumped a foot in the air.

"Glorfindel," I squeaked, clutching my chest as I automatically tottered over to him, putting my hands on his waist. "What are you doing still awake?"

An amused smile crept over his features. "I might ask the same of you."

I shrugged. "Ah, couldn't settle down enough to turn in for the night."

"I can believe that," he said with an understanding nod. "Elrond told me what happened with Celebrían this afternoon. Are you well?"

"Well enough, I think," I replied.

"Come, then," Glorfindel said as he steered me to the middle of the deck and sat us both down. He produced a hand from behind his back, revealing a plate of grapes. "Let's throw and catch these in our mouths for a while."

I smiled and leaned back on him. "You're excellent, you know," I murmured as I picked a grape and chucked it in the air. He craned his neck, snapped the grape up in his mouth and grinned down at me.

"And what of you, then?" I continued. "How have you been today?"

"Ah, it's been rather quiet," Glorfindel admitted, "especially during these last few hours, what with Elrond having to suddenly depart the way he did."

We both heaved a small sigh and turned our attention back to the grapes, the acrobatic eating of which kept us quietly entertained for a solid hour.

"Rhodri?" Glorfindel said, breaking the comfortable silence. He lay back so his head was in my lap.

"Mmm?" I looked down and tucked an errant strand of hair behind his ear.

"Tell me how much you love me." He gave me a winsome smile, and his eyes shone brightly in the moonlight.

"Oh, hmm," I said, thinking carefully. I put a hand on his chest and pat it. "Goodness, that's a hard question to answer. I don't think I have the words to describe it, really. It's too big to conceptualise."

His smile broadened. "Try anyway?"

I chuckled a little. "Anything for you," I answered. "Now, let's see if I can't make this a little more quantifiable… hmm…"

He watched me carefully, waiting for my answer.

"Ah," I said as I had a thought. "Let us assume that love in our personal context is a combination of affection, attraction, and also intellectual appreciation. Given this and knowing that affection and attraction arise in the mind and brain, I love you to the full extent of which my mind and brain are capable, and so therefore, the maximum possible amount." I nodded confidently.

"You forgot fëar in your assumption," Glorfindel chimed in, laughing as a happy blush crept over his face.

I frowned. "I thought I said the mind. Did I leave that out?"

Glorfindel cocked his head in confusion. "You did, but you left out fëar."

"Are they not essentially the same for that purpose? I always looked at the fëa as a representation of our inner self."

"Well, yes, the fëa is an inner self, but it is not the same as the mind. The fëa is the soul. The soul is the inner self."

"Do… do you mean there is a separate system at play here?" I asked in surprise. "I've always divided it into body, brain, and mind."

"We consider it to be body, mind- for thoughts and opinions, and soul, for feelings and personality and the self. Occasionally also heart, but that is a subset of the mind, really," Glorfindel explained.

My eyes widened and I glanced up at the night sky for a moment. Had I just been given the sign I was pestering my superior for?

"Rhodri?" asked Glorfindel, sitting up a little. "Are you all right?"

"Ah... yes," I replied vaguely before covering my mouth with my hand as I thought through this quickly. Perhaps Celebrían had shown no signs of progress because I had been trying to fix the wrong thing. My therapy had all been for the mind, but what if her mind wasn't what was injured?

I let out a gasp as my mind turned back to her scepticism at the treatments, her admission that she was still injured…  
"My god, it's her fëa…" I whispered to myself as I shook my head in horror. The symptoms were so similar, but she didn't have post-traumatic stress disorder at all, because that was a brain/mind issue. Her soul, on the other hand, was in deep trouble. I was completely out of my depth here, and had been making her suffer terribly in putting her through therapy.

"Rhodri?" Glorfindel looked alarmed now. "What is it?"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you yet. I need to speak to Celebrían as soon as possible." Completely blindsided, I drew Glorfindel up and pulled him into my lap, hugging him like he was a teddy bear.  
"But just so you know," I added numbly as I rocked him, "I've extended the assumption to include the fëa, and I love you with all of that, too."

He held my hands and murmured, "I love you the maximum amount, too."

The morning came at a snail's pace, my stomach churning all the while as I thought about having to speak to Celebrían. Thankfully, both she and Elrond were early birds, so even though the wait felt like years, it was a few hours at best.

At around seven o'clock, when I was sure they'd eaten, I'd left Glorfindel on the observation deck and stood in the doorway to her study. The door was open, and Celebrían sat in the same chair, but all the curtains now drawn. I gingerly knocked on the jamb. She looked up, saw me, and beckoned me in with a vacant expression, her eyes fixed on the now obscured window.

"Hello, Rhodri," she murmured. I tried to greet her back, but the words never came. A hello seemed too… optimistic at this point.

"It's not your mind at all, is it, Celebrían?" I said to her in a hushed tone.

She looked over at me and with a very weak smile, shook her head.

"Ah, you worked it out," she said with a smile. "No, it is not my mind."

"Why did you make yourself suffer so much?" I whispered, my throat closing up.

"Because you and Elrond were both so hopeful that something good might come of it. I could not bear to disappoint you."

"Oh, Celebrían," I breathed. "I'm so sorry. If- if I'd known sooner-"

"Ah, Rhodri," she said quietly. "Please don't be sorry. It was my choice. But…" her voice trailed off. I knew what she was thinking.

"I can't do anything for this, can I?" I choked, my eyes filling up with tears.

She shook her head gently. "No, I'm afraid not," she said simply. "At this point, I think the only healing to be had will be found in Valinor."  
The words hit me like a freight train, leaving me totally speechless. I looked down at my knees in the foolish attempt to make my tearfulness a little less obvious, but looked back up when I felt her hand touch my shoulder.  
"I must ask a favour of you, Rhodri."

"Name it," I said quickly as I swallowed forcefully.

"I need you to tell the others for me. It… it is too much for me to bear, I think."  
My insides turned to ice, but I nodded automatically. "Of course I will," I said reflexively, climbing to my feet. Celebrían tapped my arm, and when I looked over, I saw her beckon me to her. I leaned down and wrapped my arms around her gently, terrified I would break her into a million pieces. Her arms draped around my shoulders as she hugged back weakly.  
"I'm so sorry, darling," I whispered as I pat her back.

The embrace broke, and she squeezed my arms gently. I took a deep breath, nodded and went next door to Elrond's study, knocking on the door.

A voice from within invited me to enter, and I stepped inside. Elrond was bent over his desk, writing away. He put his pen down and turned around, looking concerned when he saw me.

"Rhodri? Goodness, you look like you've been- what is it? Is it Celebrían?" He stood up quickly, ready to dash out to her.  
"It is," I said quietly, holding up a hand to halt him, "but she is fine right now. I need to speak with you about her, Elrond. Do you have a moment?"

Still worried, he nodded quickly and with a gesture, bade me to sit down with him.

"Celebrían isn't having any benefit from my therapy," I began slowly as I perched myself on a chair across from him. "Not that you need me to tell you that; I'm sure you've noticed it yourself."

Elrond broke into a sweat and started to panic, eyes wide and breathing rapidly through his mouth.

"Elrond," I said quietly, waving a little to get his attention. "Look at me."

He glanced up at me, beads of perspiration falling off his face now.  
"She is going to die," he whispered, his knuckles white as he balled his hands up into fists.

"No, Elrond, she isn't," I said calmly, shaking my head. "Not right now. But it is her fëa which has been injured, not her mind, and I cannot treat that. I do not think there is anything we possess here that will improve her condition, and so far as I can tell, we have tried everything that is at our disposal."  
"What will happen to her, then?" he gasped anxiously.

"She will go on suffering like this for as long as she is in Middle-Earth, I imagine," I replied sadly. "I noticed that when she gets exposed to any of these stressors, she expends great effort in keeping her fëa tethered to her body, so I do not know if she will weather future shocks as well as she has these."

"Then… she has to sail west?" he asked, his voice not quite steady.

"I think so, mate." I nodded regretfully, almost feeling like I wasn't present in the situation. It was all too bizarre, too unspeakably awful to be real. And yet, here it was, screwing shit up everywhere.

Elrond put his head in his hands and sat still for a while.

"Would you like me to speak with the nippers and her parents about it?" I asked when his face, now blotchy and wet, resurfaced.

He shook his head, taking the (clean) handkerchief I now offered him and drying his eyes and nose with it. "No thank you, Rhodri, I- I think I had better tell them myself," he answered thickly. After a moment, he stood up. "I'll go to her now."

I nodded, got up as well, and made for the door with him. In the hall, he turned right and I turned left, desperate to get as far away from their shared sorrow as I could.

At a guess, Glorfindel was taking breakfast now, and so I made my way to the dining hall where, sure enough, he sat quietly and chewed on a slice of bread. He looked up and saw me coming over to him, upon which he abandoned his plate and beetled over to me.  
"How did it go? Is everything all right?" he asked, watching my face carefully.  
"Yes and no," I said gently. "Let's go and sit somewhere quiet for a minute so I can fill you in."

He nodded quickly, and we headed back to the observation deck, which was always deserted at this time of the day, and possibly the most secluded part of Elrond's house. We sat down and I pulled Glorfindel close to me as I explained what had happened this morning.  
"Oh," he said softly, covering his mouth with his hand. He looked around at me, his eyes filling with tears. "This is terrible."

"I know," I whispered, nodding sorrowfully as I stroked his hair. "We'd better leave them for today, let them grieve."

"What should we do?" Glorfindel murmured as he dried his eyes.

"Let's not go anywhere too far away in case they need us," I said pensively, "but we need to do something to comfort ourselves. How about we head to your study and I'll serenade you, hm?"

He smiled weakly and nodded. With that, we slowly got up and made our way downstairs to let my guitar do the talking for a while.


	39. Of goodbyes and Men

**Author's note:** No CWs, just a bloody miserable start.**  
** Rosenthorne: Not going to lie, writing about Celebrían had me cut up for a while there. Elrond really drew the short straw when it came to luck, and it's almost like his misfortune affects everyone around him. Poor bugger just can't win. But hey, I'm so glad you like it!

If I needed any further confirmation that Celebrían's injury was to the fëa rather than her mind, it came in the days that followed. After she and Elrond had had some space to air their emotions a little, they asked Glorfindel and I to come to her study, where they told us that she would depart for the Grey Havens within the month.

"How will you stand being outside?" I asked her in confusion, my heart racing in panic as I thought of how much she had suffered from the sapling in the hallway.

The answer was that she would be drugged for the entire time with an even stronger sleeping draught than the red concoction given to Glamren. She would essentially be put into a medically-induced coma for the four weeks it took to reach the Grey Havens, and once on the boat, they would taper off the dose.

"You look a little improved already," I said with a sad smile.

Celebrían nodded. "I am. I dread leaving, but we have made peace with it, and truth be told, I think the prospect of healing in Valinor is what gives me a little more strength now."

Glorfindel and I nodded. That was the proof. Anticipatory healing. Not enough to return to normal, but enough to suffer a little less. I could see the flicker of a light in her eyes again. A hint of soul that was slowly starting to come out of hiding.

Though she didn't really leave the study any more except where absolutely necessary, she was a bit more talkative, ate a mouthful more, even smiled once or twice. It was a relief to know that she would be able to finally find healing somewhere, but it was clear that everyone around her was crushed all the same.

Over the last few weeks, Glorfindel and I took over Elrond's duties completely while he, Celebrían, and their children spent as much time together as they possibly could. We saw them only once or twice in the week for Happy Hour (sans the brisk walk, of course), which took place in Celebrían's study, and for those brief periods it almost seemed like things were the way they used to be. Almost.

The morning of her departure eventually rolled around, though, and everything in me felt heavy as Glorfindel and I got up early and walked out to her study, where people were coming in to wish her bon voyage. The last few visitors were in there, and when we stepped in it was just us, Galadriel and Celeborn, and Elrond plus the kids.

"We won't keep you," I said to Celebrían quickly as we embraced her. "Just wanted to wish you a good tri-"

"Don't be ridiculous, Rhodri," Celebrían interrupted me, rolling her eyes a little. "I specifically asked for you and Glorfindel to come now because I want you both to stay.' She glanced at the others and, seeing that they were distracted, lowered her voice. "Once I'm asleep, take them out for breakfast. I've arranged something special for you all there."

I raised an eyebrow at her but assured her that her wish was my command.

"Good," she said, pulling me and Glorfindel into another embrace. "I'll see you again in a little while, so behave yourself in the interim." Celebrían gave Glorfindel and me a knowing smile.

I struggled to keep my composure at this point, but managed to retort, "We will if you do."

She gently winked at me, and we stepped away to make room for the others to get emotional with her. After a few minutes, Elrond went and retrieved a bottle from Celebrían's desk which held a shimmering, deep purple liquid. He poured a few spoonfuls into a glass and passed it to her, his jaw trembling as he did. Celebrían's eyes filled with tears, but she forced a smile as she toasted us and drank it down. Elrond bent down and seemed to be whispering to her, holding her head steady as she dozed off. Within a few seconds, she was fast asleep. He picked her up and gently carried her out to the carriage that was awaiting her in the courtyard. He lay her in the makeshift bed in there and pulled a light blanket over her, and with that, she was away.

We all stood in the courtyard together, united in our very not-okay, moist-eyed state. Galadriel and Celeborn were clutching each other's hands tightly as they stared into the distance as the carriage bearing their daughter away disappeared down the path. Glorfindel had his hands resting on Elrond's shoulders as Elrond comforted a distraught Arwen. Elladan and Elrohir were concealing their faces in my shoulders, sobbing heavily. Everyone was rooted to the spot, scarcely knowing what to do with themselves, afraid that moving might make the situation somehow concrete, irreversible, even though we knew it already was. It had been for a whole year.

"Everyone," I said when we all had pulled ourselves together a little, "I am under strict instructions from Celebrían to escort all present to the dining hall, so I must request that you follow me there." The tear-streaked company exchanged curious glances now, but obliged me as I led them hence, faking that I knew what I was doing for all I was worth.

When we came in, the hall was empty, but the end of the table where we tended to sit and eat appeared to be set. We strolled up there and found that each of our places had a plate of our favourite food on it. It wasn't specified by mealtime, either: Glorfindel's enormous slice of bee sting cake featured alongside a roast lamb dinner for Arwen, who was sitting across from Elladan and Elrohir's favourites of berries and fried fish, respectively. I was surprised to see that Galadriel and Celeborn appeared to have the same top dish, which was some sort of vegetable stew, and Elrond rounded off the head of the table with a couple of sticky buns. A bittersweet moment blanketed us as we collectively held our breath for a moment, a renewed loss of composure alarmingly close. Eventually, though, we sat down and started picking away at our meals. I couldn't help but smile at mine: spaghetti and meatballs. Nobody knew what it was, but they didn't have it in them to enquire further, which was a relief, because I wasn't in the mood to regale the levity of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. We were known to have a proclivity for making our favourite foods disappear in record time, but today we ate slowly and contemplatively, nobody saying much of anything.

It would be some time before any of us smiled again, but especially Elrond. Unsurprisingly, Elrond hardened a little after Celebrían left. Her absence seemed to make it impossible for him to be as happy as he used to be. Where he used to beam, now he merely smiled, and the twinkle in his eye when he was indulging his cheeky side was now largely extinguished. They were subtle but unmistakeable signs of an emotional wound that had cut Elrond to the bone, and just like that, his life was divided into another two stages: before Celebrían's kidnapping, and after it. He insisted that we continue Happy Hour, which was a relief for Glorfindel and me because we wanted to keep an eye on him outside of working hours, but he bowed out of a lot of other recreational social occasions and shenanigans.

Though it grieved Glorfindel and I to watch this newfound sobriety take over Elrond's disposition, there was nothing to be done for it. He knew the option of therapy was available, but he never took it. Fortunately, he was still amenable to friendly check-ins.

"You know, Elrond," I said to him half a year later as the two of us sat on his balcony with a wine, "Glorfindel and I are hoping to try out a new sport that I was fond of back in London."

"Oh?" he replied, looking at me with placid curiosity.

"_Blobbing,_" I declared.

He blinked in puzzlement but patiently awaited elucidation.

"It involves a large, rectangular, airtight sack, partway inflated. Someone sits on the front end of it, and another person jumps down onto the back end from a high place, which projects the person in the front up into the air. We've just about finished covering the bag in wax. What do you say we get away for the weekend, just the three of us, and try it out in those huge pools a day's ride north of here?"

A gentle smile came over his face, and though there was clear amusement there, he looked fatigued at the thought of doing anything of an even vaguely leisurely nature, and declined with a nod.

"Thank you, but no," he answered quietly. "I think I need a quieter weekend presently."

"How are you doing, Elrond?"

"I… feel empty," he murmured softly as his gaze fixed on the glowing sunset. "But you were right, you know, Rhodri," he continued in a more matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh?" I enquired with interest. "What about?"

"Do you remember that evening you locked yourself out here with me and shouted me back to my seat to talk some sense into me?"

I felt my cheeks burn. "I do, and I'm still mortified about that," I mumbled awkwardly, clumsily pawing at my face with my hand.

Elrond chuckled weakly. "You told me that life was a gamble, and that I would never regret pursuing Celebrían if only I would take the plunge."

"I take it you don't regret getting together with Celebrían, is what you're saying?"

"Precisely," he confirmed.

I sighed. "Long distance relationships aren't much fun, I grant you, but once we're sorted out here, we'll leave for Valinor as soon as possible," I said, desperate to inject some hope into the conversation. "It'll be back to bliss before we know it."

"Not soon enough, for my liking," he murmured in a dissatisfied tone, taking a sip of wine.

"It never is," I conceded heavily. "In the meantime, though, is there anything I can do for you?"

Elrond shrugged a little. "I'd have asked you to check on the children, but with Arwen going back to Lothlórien and Elladan and Elrohir off with the Dúnedain again, your efforts there would be frustrated somewhat."

"And what about yourself?" I asked. "No time out at all for you? It need not be adventurous business."

He shook his head gently. "Not for me, I don't think. Not yet. I am not fond of the idea of having so much time with my own thoughts for now."

"Can I still invite you to do things with Glorfindel and me? Or will you tire of being asked?"

"Please do keep asking," he said quietly, looking at me with a slightly afraid expression.

"Hey," I said as I clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly. "I said it ages ago. You're our Elrond. We're here to pester you until the world ends, but I understand in shit times like this, it can get a little wearing, so the offer of temporary relief seemed only fair."

The worried look dissipated, and with a small smile, he rolled his eyes at me.

The process of settling into a freakish new normal was a painfully slow one. We didn't really seem to get the hang of it for a good few centuries, but the huge gash that we'd started out with eventually shrank down to a small, albeit still very deep puncture which took a lot more provocation to upset than before. Luckily, everything going on outside of Imladris appeared to be back in the swing of things, which made it much easier to handle. Conditions had settled down in Gondor and Rohan; the monarchs came and went as per usual, and trade was as comfortable as ever. Sauron was mercifully quiet in his conspicuous hidey-hole. All told, life was eminently doable.

And naturally, when things become too predictable, something comes along again and turns the world on its head. Fortunately, though, this was quite a pleasant surprise. Not that I knew it at the time. I had been indulging in a spot of trampoline diving with Glorfindel in the late afternoon, and we had been taking it a bit too hard, because we wandered up toward the house dripping wet and hearing slightly muffled from all the water in our ear canals. As we got into the main corridor, I heard a high-pitched shrieking that set my teeth on edge, even through the aqua sound barrier. It sounded like someone was plucking the feathers out of a live seagull. Worried, Glorfindel and I ran as fast as we could to the source of the noise, which took us to Elrond's office. The door was closed, but the screeches continued. Whatever was in there was frantic.

"Elrond," I hollered as I bashed on the door. "Elrond I'm sorry but there's a bird stuck in there, I just need to go in there and let it out, mate!"

I couldn't hear any noise from inside (aside from the caterwauling that brought us there in the first place, of course), and I threw the door open to find Elrond standing with a young mortal woman. She looked exhausted, and appeared to be holding an inconsolable toddler. My jaw dropped as mortification filled me from head to toe, and with that sudden drop in internal pressure my gaping mouth had created, the water gushed out of my ears.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," I said over the baby's crying. "I thought it was a trapped bird. We'll just… uh… go…"

But we did not 'just go.' I heard Glorfindel from behind me loudly exclaim, "Oh, _my! _A baby!" and clapped his hands in delight. The sound of the clapping alerted the screaming tadpole to us, and as he looked at the two of us silly clucks standing there dripping wet in our stripy swimsuits, he proceeded to laugh and clap his hands back at us.

"Ah, Rhodri, Glorfindel," Elrond said quickly upon seeing us, seizing the opportunity for free childcare. He beckoned us in so that we might keep the child quiet a while longer.  
"This is Gilraen, descendant of the Rangers of the North," he gestured at the young lady, who gave us a shy but friendly smile, "and her child Aragorn, who will be known as Estel." He gestured at the infant. "Their husband and father, King Arathorn of the Dunedain, was recently killed by an Orc arrow while hunting with Elladan and Elrohir. It is Gilraen's wish that I foster Estel, so the two of them are the newest residents of Imladris."

"Ooh," Glorfindel murmured excitedly, waving gently at the baby, who squealed joyfully.  
"I am sorry for your loss, Gilraen," I said solemnly, walking over and putting a hand on her shoulder gently. "That must be dreadful for you. Would you happen to be interested in having a foster aunt and uncle as well?" I asked Gilraen with a small smile as I stuck my tongue out and got a giggle out of her child.

"Oh, I would be, if the offer is there," Gilraen replied with a nod.

Glorfindel and I both beamed with excitement. "Splendid, splendid!" Glorfindel gushed, eyes sparkling.

"If you wish to take advantage of the extra supervision," Elrond said with an amused smile to Gilraen, "you can pass Estel to these two and we can finish making our short-term plans. They have long experience from looking after my own children."

Seeming to be satisfied with our qualifications, Gilraen put Estel on the ground and watched him fondly as he toddled over to us.

While the grown-ups were talking, Glorfindel and I had an absolute whale of a time with our newest nephew. He had a thick crop of dark brown hair and grey eyes that glittered so enchantingly as he investigated his surroundings with fascination. The sound of his laughter filled the room like music as we played shadow puppets on the wall with him, and for the first time in centuries, Elrond appeared to soften, stealing a glance at the happy little sprout now and then.

When the discussions were finished and Gilraen's room was, we escorted her and Estel there and said our goodnights.

"I have a good feeling about this," I said to Glorfindel and Elrond cheerfully as we wandered back together.

"You don't say," Elrond remarked affably as he glanced over at me.

"No, but really," I continued. "We could use a dose of carefree children's antics around here. I think we're ready for a bit of happiness."

A contented "Mmm," came from both of them.


	40. Interview with a child psychologist

**Author's note: ** Sorry for the fluff, I had to lighten the mood a little after the last few chapters.  
Mia: A child? In THIS economy?!

It's funny how people can blow your expectations out of the water. You meet someone and get a good feeling about them, and then when you know them better, you realise they brought far more joy into your life than you had originally anticipated. Gilraen and Estel were both so delightful to be around that it quickly became hard to remember a time before they had come to Rivendell. She was the first human I had been around in millennia, and I took a liking to her very quickly.

I wasn't the only one. Both Gilraen and Estel fast became two of the most popular people in Imladris, and not just by virtue of their being human, either. Gilraen had a nobility of bearing and treating others that well befitted her status among the Dúnedain. She was eternally patient and gentle, and though she tended to be quite a solemn sort, she seemed happy enough to let Glorfindel and me be around her and her offspring. Estel had a very similar countenance to his mother, and was very insightful and advanced for his age. It was delightful watching him grow; it seemed fairly clear that his father's death had had little impact on his psychological development, likely because he did not see much of his father in those early years. Lamentable in one regard, but very fortunate in another. He peppered conversations with remarkable, occasionally hilarious observations, and was never short of questions for his family, biological or otherwise.

"Auntie Rhodri," the nine-year-old Estel said to me gravely as we played checkers in my office, "I would like to ask a favour of you."

"Oh, yes?" I replied, shifting one of my pieces forward. "What are you thinking of?"

"I intend to become a psychologist," he announced decisively as he went to move one checker, then stopped and chose another instead.  
"A psychologist!" I remarked with interest. "What's prompted this choice of career, then? I thought you wanted to be the Lord of Imladris."

"Well, I did," Estel admitted slowly, then dropping his voice to a whisper as he beckoned me closer, "but do you know, I think it is just a name Ada uses to make himself feel better because he has to spend all his time writing on papers. I wouldn't have any time to play at all, so it would not work for me."

It took absolutely every shred of willpower I possessed not to scream with laughter, and I couldn't come up with a reasonable excuse to step outside for a moment to collect myself. Thankfully, Estel didn't pick up on this and continued, his voice now at a normal volume again.

"Besides, Ada said that if questions were pebbles, I would have enough to sink a ship," Estel answered matter-of-factly as he jumped two of my checkers. "And asking questions is what you do here anyway, so I think it would be a very good job for me."

"A very astute observation," I acknowledged in a falsely calm voice, barely keeping my giggles under wraps.

"Yes," he agreed with a nod. "So I would like you to teach me psychology so I can spend my days asking people questions like you."

I swallowed back another urge to laugh and nodded back. "Sure thing," I replied after a moment, moving my last checker forward. "How about we try a work experience program first, though, so you can see how well you actually like it? You might find that you don't get to ask the questions you feel like asking."

"I am sure it won't be a problem," Estel said with certainty. "I want to know everything."

Seemed legit.

"Well, I tell you what, sprout," I said, "how about we bring someone in tomorrow for a practice session and I'll walk you through what to do, eh?"

Estel nodded, a small smile lighting up his face. "This will be fun," he mused happily. He looked down at the checkerboard and then up at me, his expression equanimous again.

"Maybe in return, I can teach you to play checkers better," he suggested serenely, jumping my last piece and putting it to the side. "You're not very good at this, are you?"

I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again. Where was the lie? I shook my head. "Not at all," I lamented. Estel departed my office some minutes later, victorious and eager for tomorrow. I was, too. All that was left was to recruit a fake client, and I knew exactly who I wanted for that.

"Tell me, my love," I said to Glorfindel as we lay in bed that evening, "are you available for, say, an hour tomorrow?"

"For you, beloved, I am available at any time," he replied genially, giving me a winsome smile. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, young Estel has decided he wishes to become a psychologist, you see, so I told him we'd practice on someone," I explained. "Would you have any interest in being a confederate of sorts?"

"Ooh," Glorfindel enthused. "This sounds extremely entertaining! What should I do?"

I chewed my lip in thought for a second. "Come in with some sort of made-up problem and I'll walk him through finding out the issue and what to do about it, I think. How does that sound to you?"

He laughed good-naturedly. "Excellent. I'll think of something in the morning and visit you in the office after lunch, then, yes?"

I grinned in amusement and nodded. "This is going to be fun."

"Extremely," Glorfindel murmured with a smile as he leaned over and started kissing my neck. "Speaking of availability, can you spare an hour or two right now?" His eyes glittered softly in the dim light.

"I can give you the whole night," I replied with a wink as my hands slipped below the blankets.

Estel came to my office just after lunch the next day. I put him in my usual chair (with a couple of cushions to boost him a little) and passed him a piece of paper and a pen.

"Writing?" he exclaimed in disbelief as he looked at the implements in front of him.

"You don't have to write things all the time, don't worry," I said, smiling as the child visibly relaxed. "It can help you remember small details that might be handy later. Now, your client is going to come in shortly, and they'll have a problem that you need to ask questions about so you can work out what the issue is. You got me?"

Estel nodded.

"Now, the trick is, you have to ask questions to help them reach the answer themselves. We haven't lived their life, so what works for us might not work for them. Only give advice if they need it." I wrote those points in a few words at the top of the page to help him through the session. Estel read through the words carefully and gave another nod.

"Last thing before your client arrives," I added. Estel watched me attentively. "The problems your client tells you are secret, and secrets can be very hard for people to talk about, so you need to make your client feel nice and safe with you. You can't pass the secrets on to anyone else unless you're really sure the person will do something bad or dangerous, all right?"

"Understood," he affirmed.

At that moment, a knock came at the door.

"That'll be your client now, I imagine," I said, gesturing that he should somehow allow the person outside to enter. Estel quickly got up and zipped over to the door and opened it to reveal Glorfindel.

"Hello!" Estel said, looking up at him. "Are you my client?"

"Indeed I am," Glorfindel replied with a happy nod.

Estel nodded. "All right. Come in, Uncle Glorfindel, and let's fix your problem." He took Glorfindel by the hand and gently led him inside. The cuteness was overwhelming; Estel had been paying close attention, it seemed, when I said he needed to make his client feel safe. He guided Glorfindel to a chair and then climbed up onto his own.

"Okay," I said quietly to Estel. "Before you start, you need to explain a little bit about how you will help, and how you keep Uncle Glorfindel's secrets safe."

He nodded. "Well, Uncle," he began, lacing his fingers together and regarding Glorfindel owlishly, "I'm going to ask you lots of questions about your problem, and you have to work out the answer yourself. But if you don't know by the end, I'll tell you the answer instead."

I bit my tongue hard as I suppressed a giggle and could hear Glorfindel's inner monologue howling with laughter while he maintained a very calm exterior. He nodded, and Estel, seemingly satisfied, continued.  
"Now, your secrets are safe with me. I won't tell anyone unless I think you'll be very naughty, and then I'll have to go straight to Ada, I'm afraid," he said in a businesslike tone.

More internal screams of laughter ensued, but Glorfindel, still the picture of serenity on the outside, nodded again. "Understood, Doctor," he answered, permitting a tiny smile.

Estel glanced at me. "Was that all right?" he whispered.

I shot him the thumbs-up and smiled. "Excellent," I whispered back. "Your client seems very reassured."

He looked pleased with himself but quickly shook his head as he returned to his earnest demeanour.

"So, Uncle Glorfindel, what seems to be the problem?"

"Well, Estel, I am having trouble with cake."

"Cake?" he asked, perplexed. "How can anyone have trouble with cake?"

"It's shocking, isn't it," Glorfindel acknowledged with a sad nod. "But I find that I want to eat it before dinner instead of dessert. In fact, I have been having cake before dinner all through this week."

I froze. That wicked spouse! He had done no such thing; it was, in fact, something I was guilty of doing the week before.

Estel touched the tips of his fingers together pensively. "Yes, that is quite a problem, especially since it's forbidden," he murmured. After a moment, he appeared to realise something. He looked at me quickly and whispered urgently, "Is this a secret I have to tell Ada? A whole week of cake before dinner is quite bad."

"I'll talk to your ada about it later," I said quietly with a reassuring nod. "In the meantime, try to get to the heart of the problem with questions. When we know why it's happening, we can fix it."

He nodded. "Aren't you afraid of getting in trouble with Ada?"

Glorfindel shrugged a little. "Well, I really, really want the cake, you see. I see it sitting on the plate, and it looks much more enjoyable than a plate of vegetables. I don't think about trouble so much when I'm looking at the cake."

Estel frowned slightly. "I think everyone wants cake before dinner, but we have to do as we're told. Can't you just force yourself to eat your dinner very quickly and get it out of the way?"

"I suppose I could," conceded Glorfindel, "but it doesn't make me very happy."

The child's frown deepened. "Have you tried taking a toy with you? That used to make me happier when I had to eat foods I didn't like back when I was small."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows as he appeared to consider the question. "No, as a matter of fact, I haven't tried that. So you can recommend it, can you?"

Estel nodded. "I'm sorry, Uncle Glorfindel," he said gravely. "I'm afraid it is your only option now, since Ada is going to find out. You'll just have to be sad through dinner. But that's all right. You don't have to be happy all the time."

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. That was a very insightful comment. This kid was impressive.

"So your advice is to take a toy to dinner and accept being unhappy sometimes so that I stay out of trouble?" Glorfindel clarified.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Ada might take away your cake privileges then, and then all you'll have is your dinner. It isn't worth the risk."

"Wise words, little one," Glorfindel said warmly. "I think I shall try that."

"Good," Estel said solemnly. "Come back if you find that doesn't work."

"I most certainly will," Glorfindel replied with a smile. "Well, I think that's about all I can do for now, so I will go and find a suitable toy now before dinner. Thank you very much for seeing me today, Estel, you've been very helpful."

He got up, and so did Estel, who quickly hurried over and took him by the hand to guide him back to the door.

"Uncle Glorfindel?" Estel said as Glorfindel made to turn the door handle. "One more question."  
Glorfindel stopped and turned around. "Mmm?"

Estel dropped his voice a little. "How did you eat cake before dinner for a whole week and not get caught?"

"Ah-ah!" I said loudly, wildly leaping to my feet and pointing at Glorfindel like he was a cat about to scratch the couch. Glorfindel froze, his mouth half-open as he went to respond.

"Not a word from you, Uncle Glorfindel, otherwise your father," I pointed at Estel, "will be after my blood. Finding out I'm furnishing bad habits like those in his son… he'd never let me forget it."

Estel sighed in defeat and waved goodbye as a seriously amused Glorfindel opened the door and left the office, laughing noisily.

Closing the door again, Estel came back over to me and with the resigned groan of a 90-year-old getting up out of a chair, climbed back on top of the cushion pile and sat quietly.

"You did a good job with your first client, sprout," I said encouragingly, patting his shoulder. "Lots of good advice in there, great questions, and you explained things very well. I think you'll make a terrific psychologist."

"To be honest with you, Auntie Rhodri, I'm not so sure I want to be a psychologist any more now," Estel said, sounding like a grossly overworked middle-manager as he rubbed his brow.

"Oh? Why the sudden change of heart? You said you like asking questions."

"Well, I do, but really, if grown-ups make such silly choices and I have to spend my time teaching them to do what Ada already makes me do, I might as well just have children of my own." He threw his hands up and leaned back in the chair.

I was losing the battle to stifle my laughter to the extent that I didn't dare try to talk him out of it. The boy was meant to be a monarch anyway.  
"Ah well," I said to him. "Some things just aren't meant to be. It's a good thing you found out now so that you didn't spend years preparing for it."

Estel's eyes widened and he nodded, looking distinctly haunted by the idea. "Thank you for showing me about your job, Auntie," he said after a moment, smiling gently. "Even if it wasn't what I was expecting, it was interesting. Shall I show you how to play checkers better?"

"I'd love that," I answered with a smile, "but could we do it another day? I have an errand to run that can't wait."

"All right," he said good-naturedly and together, we walked to the door and went our separate ways. When I was certain he was out of earshot, I went straight to Elrond and Gilraen in an attempt to save my arse before I had to explain why this child was suddenly preoccupied with eating cake before dinner.


	41. The virtues of a well-timed backhander

I'm going to come out and say it: Sauron is a needy bitch. We enjoy a period of relative quiet, and then he comes a-lurking, rattles the cage, and disappears again. Rinse and repeat. And thus it was the following year.

The aforementioned lurking had been transpiring over the last few centuries, so a resurgence of bad behaviour was not wholly unexpected. It was, however, unwelcome, because I was in the middle of a large research project on coping strategies at the time, and frankly, I was getting sick of Sauron essentially coming into my life and shitting in my bed at random intervals.

Nonetheless, that was our situation, and we simply had to get on with it, which in this case meant doing what we seemed to do best: calling another White Council meeting.

The Council members arrived in the coming weeks in a steady succession, Galadriel and Celeborn being the first to appear. To my intense surprise, Aiwendil the Usually Very Disorganised came next, and he arrived strangely bereft of any of his usual animals, with the exception of a skeleton staff of Rhosgobel rabbits pulling his sled.

"You travelled awfully light this time around, Aiwendil," I remarked to him casually over wine with him, Glorfindel, Elrond, Galadriel, and Celeborn that afternoon.

"Yes, it made for quite a lonely trip to Imladris, I must say," he replied with a small nod. "My birds are all in Isengard and the surrounds, being lent out to Curumo."

I raised an eyebrow and looked at the others.

"You still have no proof of your suspicions, Rhodri," Elrond reminded me, though he said it with much less conviction now than he had on previous occasions.

I scowled mistrustfully. "At this point, if he fortifies himself enough before I can prove it, it'll be too late," I grumbled, taking a sip of wine.

"Perhaps a compromise is in order, then," Celeborn offered. "We can watch him closely in this next Council. If he opts to delay further, we shall question him, and if he is for taking action, we will shelve our judgements awhile longer." He looked at me now. "What say you, Rhodri?"

"I think that's about the best we can hope for right now, but I want to add that you should still be _very _vigilant if he agrees to take action, because it could mean he has already prepared himself to do whatever it is he intends to. Who needs a whole army of birds like that? He has never taken an interest in being an effective leader of this Council before, and now he recruits everything in the sky without telling us?" I shook my head fervently. "I don't trust him."

Aiwendil looked incredibly surprised at all of this. "Curumo wouldn't do any of that, surely," he squeaked. "He was instructed to lead the Istari to unite Middle-Earth against Sauron."

"Even the Valar didn't always do as they were told, Aiwendil," I reminded him with a grave look.

"But you don't understand," he said. "I am a Maia. I cannot divine any badness in him."

"Manwë wasn't too brisk in picking up his brother's evil, either," I answered, shrugging.

Aiwendil leaned back in his seat, looking worried as he considered my last statement.

"Let us wait for the Council, then," Elrond acquiesced. "We will see what there is to be done then."

Círdan, Olórin, and Curumo arrived a couple of weeks later, and then we finally were able to sit down in earnest and begin discussions. Well, we _would've, _had we not squabbled like seagulls about who has what ring, who's hunting for this and that--rehashing the same insipid drama, as the White Council was wont to do.

"Even if we _don't_ find the One Ring," Olórin said, standing up as the Council's bickering about the various Rings of Power finally snapped his last nerve, "We must at least take efforts to attack Sauron. He now has _all _of the 9 rings of the Men, and 3 of the 7 Dwarf rings. His power grows while ours wanes, and we _must _take action now while our strength permits, before he finds the One Ring himself. We must strike."

A-ha. Now we had finally reached the ultimatum.

"Hear, hear!" I called out in agreement.

A part of me wished that what happened next didn't, but as everybody knows, wishes are luxuries reserved for birthdays, and mine was still a few weeks away. The group looked to Curumo, possibly because they expected him to veto it and render the meeting as fruitless as he had all the previous ones.

Amazingly enough, though, he nodded his head once and said, "Perhaps you are right, Olórin."

Even Olórin could scarcely believe Curumo wasn't trying to brush away his insistence. I think he had been gearing himself up for another exhausting session of talking to a brick wall. Now, though, it appeared the wall had acquired ears and a bit of gumption.

Curumo stood up. "If what you say is true and Sauron indeed does gain strength, then we had best strike while we still might. In which case, we should prepare to invade Dol Guldur as soon as may be."

Elrond nodded and sighed. "Then we must start to ready troops and head southward before the Pass of Caradhras becomes snowed in for the winter," he said, now standing as well.

Curumo looked at him sharply. "No," he said. "This must be a stealth operation. We shall take a handful of us Council members and go straight to the core, bypassing the guards."

"But we have the resources to do this properly!" Glorfindel protested. "These forces will simply scatter and find a new master to lead them if we defeat Sauron!"

"They answer to him alone, Glorfindel of Gondolin," Curumo said in a patronising voice. "We have no need to fear them if anyone else tries to take Sauron's place."

"That's preposterous," I snapped. "We could be overwhelmed by sheer numbers as well if more of us opt to sail west, and you know that's the case!"

"To keep numbers as low as possible, the company to Dol Guldur will consist of me, Olórin, Aiwendil, Lord Elrond, and the Lady Galadriel," Curumo continued shortly, behaving as if I hadn't spoken. "We set out tomorrow at dawn. Thus concludes the meeting."

I was thunderstruck by the very abrupt ending the council had come to, and I think everyone else was as well, because while Curumo left the room, everyone else stayed put a moment longer. Nothing was said in the stunned silence, and slowly, we filed out and went to lunch.

From that point on, I didn't say a word out loud about it for fear that it would reach Curumo somehow, but I started to make plans to depart Imladris shortly after the company did and follow them to Dol Guldur.

Early the next morning, Celeborn and Círdan stood with Glorfindel and I in the courtyard as the rest of the company readied their horses.

"We'll keep things running smoothly while you're gone, Elrond, don't worry," I said to him as he made to open his mouth, no doubt to impart a laundry list of tasks he wanted us to carry out in his absence. "We've got it all sorted. Glorfindel and I will both tutor Estel. I'll take over foreign affairs, and Glorfindel will handle internal business," I elaborated with a nod, making myself sound as convincing as possible.

"Good," Elrond said with a relieved look. "Don't forget-"

"Already drafted the letters to King Fengel regarding weapons exchange," I reassured him. "I'll send them this morning. Good luck out there."

He smiled and nodded. I clapped him on the shoulder affectionately and with that, they mounted their horses and set off at a brisk pace. We stood there for a short while making conversation, and then wandered back inside for breakfast, where very little at all was said. After we'd eaten, Celeborn and Círdan went off to the library, presumably to gossip, and Glorfindel and I walked along the main corridor. Glorfindel made to open the door to Elrond's study to grab the papers he needed, but when he saw me keep walking, he followed me, confused.

"_Don't say anything yet," _I said to him in my head as I slipped a hand into his and we gently dropped our pace to a stroll. He smiled warmly, gave my hand a squeeze, and I silently led him back to our room.

When we were inside and the door was closed, Glorfindel spoke.

"So when are we leaving?"

I smiled. "You're coming, too?"

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "We haven't been apart a whole day since before we were betrothed, my love," he replied, giving me a knowing look. "Besides, we have nothing to fear there."

"I didn't think you'd want to miss out on the fun," I admitted with a grin. "I was going to simply inform you of where we'd be going."

"You know me so well," he returned with a small laugh. I reached out a hand and stroked his cheek tenderly for a moment before returning to the matter at hand.

"Now, we need a plausible lie for our sudden absence," I mused. "Who do we know that needs to see us right now?" I paced around the room, hands behind my back.

"You can disappear wherever you want at any time without explanation because you're a psychologist and have maintain confidentiality," Glorfindel said with a shrug. "Perhaps someone needs you in Mirkwood, and I am accompanying you for safety and companionship purposes."

My eyes widened. "You're a genius," I whispered. "Right, well, let's quickly send off those letters and apprise Erestor of his colossal workload."

Erestor, bless him down to his cotton socks, took the announcement in his stride and nodded understandingly.

"It must be quite severe to prompt you to travel so suddenly like this," he said, looking at me with concern. "I do hope all will be well."

"Thank you," I replied with a nod. "I hope so, too."

We set out just after lunch and spent the next few weeks essentially going from bush to bush as we followed our buddies (plus the old fart leading them). Our need to be secret put a complete moratorium on trampolining while en route, much to our shared chagrin. We had to make do with swinging about in the branches of trees with dense foliage instead. Better than nothing, certainly, but a part of me made a woeful sound every time we walked past a suitable trampoline mooring branch.

The scenery changed dramatically the closer we got to Dol Guldur. The grey discolouration pervaded through the sky like mould, and the land got progressively more barren the further we went. The grass wilted, animal life (with the exception of spies of Sauron and likely Curumo as well) was nonexistent, and flowers were a long-forgotten thing here. We had the devil's own job concealing ourselves for the last stretch, because we still had to both stay invisible while tailing them closely now. If the battle between them and Sauron went bad, we had to be ready to step in at a moment's notice. Thankfully, one or two miserable-looking trees dotted the landscape, and we pursued them closely in the night sufficiently that we were almost right behind them as they entered Dol Guldur proper.

The ruins at the top of the hill seemed to be the epicentre of all this destructive evil, and once they others had entered the dilapidated labyrinth, Glorfindel and I hurried in behind them, swords at the ready.

Though there was no roof over us, it was a remarkably easy place to get lost in. Luckily, we crept quietly enough that we could always keep the company in view as we pursued them, so at least if we were lost (and we almost certainly were at times), we'd be lost together.

Finally, after what felt like an age of wandering, we saw some sort of vestibule up ahead where most of these snaking corridors fed into, and for the first time since I arrived in Middle-Earth, I felt cold. The chill emanating from that area the air sank down into my bones, and when I looked over, I saw that Glorfindel had to bite down on his lips to stop his teeth from chattering.

When the others emerged from the hallway and into the middle of this, I quickly pulled Glorfindel off into a small alcove in case they turned around.

"_Wait," _I said to him in my head, holding up a hand and straining my ears.

Curumo's voice broke the silence as he proceeded to chant incantations in Quenya, demanding that whatever was evil in there show itself. When he finished the chant, he struck his staff on the ground, which propelled a huge wave of dust in all directions, the ground shaking violently beneath us as he did. An explosion issued forth from the floor that blasted everyone in the room but Curumo off their feet and hard against the wall, knocking them unconscious. The source of the cold seemed to rise from the crater the blast had left and I felt a thrill of terror as I recognised it even from the back, in its shredded garb and wrought iron mask, its right index finger missing. Sauron, finally in the flesh.

There was a strange moment where Curumo and Sauron seemed to lock eyes, and I wondered if Sauron had hypnotised Curumo somehow, because he placidly stood still as Sauron raised his arms. Elrond and co., all of whom had been out cold, were slowly starting to come to, but it would be too late if Sauron decided to act. Acting on a rush of adrenaline, I bolted up behind Sauron and locked my arms around him, pinning his arms down by his side as I held him to me.

"_ATTACK HIM, CURUMO!" _I yelled at him.

Curumo looked at me, and for a few moments he did nothing, merely watched on with a tiny frown as I squeezed a struggling Sauron to me as tightly as I could. Fear gripped me as I realised that he was still able to put up a fight against me, and I knew I couldn't hold him like this forever. Glorfindel now appeared from behind me and went straight to the others, stirring them roughly.

"_CURUMO!"_ I screamed desperately, feeling a searing pain burn through every bit of me that was in contact with Sauron.

A tiny smile spread across Curumo's lips as I howled in agony, the sickening smell of burning flesh filling my nostrils. Luckily, in that moment, Olórin and Galadriel were moving, and along with Glorfindel, were all able to exact one single, tripartite blow on Sauron, with Elrond and Aiwendil now hurrying toward us. Before Elrond and Aiwendil could strike too, though, Sauron dematerialised as though he had turned to sand. He slid out from underneath my arms and shot away, his freezing grey shadow on his heels as he broke out of the ruins with another deafening boom and fled to the east.

"Rhodri? Glorfindel?" Elrond spluttered as he walked up to the two of us, "how did-"

He was cut off as I pushed him gently to the side and rounded on Curumo now, incandescent with rage as he watched back at me with a hint of a sneer on his face.

"What," I hissed at him through gritted teeth, my voice rising with each word until it was a shout, "in fuck's name _did you think you were_ _DOING_?"

He didn't get a chance to reply. In a complete loss of temper, I backhanded Curumo across the face so hard that I felt half the bones in his head crack on impact. The force of the blow sent him to the ground and broke the tiles underneath him.

A gasp came from all present, including myself, as the stretching motion I'd made had aggravated the burns I had sustained. Well, all but Curumo, who was not in a position to do much of anything except lie still and groan quietly.

"_Rhodri!" _exclaimed Elrond in admonishment, my stomach turning as he looked at me in- was it horror? Anger? Fear, perhaps? Glorfindel, alarmed, ran over beside me and put a hand on my shoulder supportively.

"He was about to let all of you die at Sauron's hands," I replied furiously. Looking down at Curumo, whose face was already covered in bruises and had started to swell, I pointed a finger at him threateningly.

"You had better have a _miraculously_ good explanation for your lack of action back there," I snarled down at him.

Olórin strode over to him and gave me a warning look not to intervene as he turned Curumo onto his back and murmured enchantments that made his face return to its usual size and colour.

Curumo shook his head gently and sat up. "I was hypnotised by Sauron," he declared, rising to his feet and regarding me with disgust.

I returned his look. "Don't lie to me," I spat. "I saw you smile as he burned my flesh!" I gestured at my seared arms and torso. "You wanted him to strike!" Olórin and Aiwendil looked at their leader in shock.

"I wanted nothing of the sort," he returned coldly, pretending the eyes of his colleagues weren't on him.

"Even if you _had_ intended to step in," I continued angrily, "you obviously failed, because you were so easily- and for so _long_\- sucked in by Sauron's hollow promises, and it could have cost everyone their lives. This, at the very least, shows your _total_ lack of capacity as leader of the White Council!"

"How _dare_ you!" he roared back, his face turning red now as he started to make toward me.

A smile twisted my face. "Oh, you want another one, do you?" I taunted, beckoning him over before bunching my hands up into fists. "Come on, then, I'll give you a proper boxing this time."

"Enough!" said Galadriel authoritatively, stepping in between us before a brawl could ensue. "We have done what we set out to do for now. It is time to depart this place and make for our realms again as we monitor this situation, but we _will not _air our grievances between each other here where it might be seen!" She looked at us severely, and I knew I had just had my arse served to me.

I accepted my telling-off with a nod. "Good point, Galadriel. I do apologise for my lack of discretion." Wincing, I bent my arm to touch my hand to my heart in a gesture of sincerity, which was well received. She gave me a forgiving smile, and with that, we were out of there.

When we were out on the miraculously revitalised grass again, Curumo disappeared southward without a word.

"You should let me have a look at those burns," Olórin said in a grave tone, gesturing pointedly at my arms and torso. They were raw, but the darkened blood was even darker than usual- almost black, in fact.

"Please do," I invited. "They hurt like hell."

Olórin gently took one of my arms, inspecting the forearm with a wrinkled brow.

"Sauron seems to have gained part of a physical form from enchantments like the ones in the cursed Morgul blades, which, it would seem, burns on impact," he concluded with surprise after a moment.

"I didn't know that Morgul burns even existed," I whispered in shock.

"Neither did I," Olórin murmured. He held his staff over me and started chanting incantations in Valarin. The Elves, not liking the sound of the language, frowned a little.

I let out a small gasp of pain as the burn seemed to get sucked out, corroding me as much on the way out as it had upon entry. After a few minutes of discomfort, though, my upper half was good as new, if slightly exposed by the missing material. Luckily, I had a cape that I tied around me like some sort of freakish toga.

"Thanks for the help, Olórin," I said gratefully.

Olórin smiled at me. "A shame Aulë didn't craft a set of chains for you as well," he replied in a tongue-in-cheek tone, clapping me on the shoulder.

Olórin departed for Erebor shortly after that, leaving the remaining four of us to journey back to Imladris together- on foot, as Elrond and Galadriel's horses had fled after the explosions. Initially, Elrond and Galadriel acted a little distanced from me, and though it wounded me to see it, I gave them plenty of space and walked with Glorfindel instead.

"_Are you upset with me?" _I asked Glorfindel in my head on the first evening, not daring to meet his eyes.

I felt a hand touch my chin and gently turn my head. Reluctantly, I looked up and saw Glorfindel watching me lovingly.

"_No," _he replied as he shook his head. "_A little surprised, perhaps, since I have never seen you lose your temper before, but you know I trust your judgement about Curumo, and him doing what you said he did was a very dangerous thing."_

I glanced over at Elrond and Galadriel, who were sleeping fitfully a short way away. "_Will they forgive me?"_

"_There is nothing to forgive. They are merely rattled by the events of today."_

"_You think so?" _I felt hope surge in me.

"_I am sure of it. They will come around soon enough." _

I smiled at Glorfindel. "_Are you doing all right after everything today, yourself?"_

He nodded calmly. "_I am quite fine. What of you?"_

"_I'm relieved you're safe. I wasn't sure what would happen for a while there." _I drank his face in for a minute before pulling him over to me and holding him closely. He wrapped his arms around me and smiled up at me.

Sure enough, Glorfindel was right- mostly, anyway. Galadriel settled back down with me fairly quickly and admitted to me later that she was having strong doubts about Curumo's suitability as leader of the White Council. Elrond, however, didn't mention the issue again until we got back to Imladris, and though he treated me perfectly fine (albeit with a little more distance than usual), I could see he was troubled by it still, a few days after we'd returned. That, in turn, troubled me. We had been best friends for almost three millennia now, and the thought of drifting apart from a bottled-up misunderstanding frightened me.

I decided, as I stood outside his study one afternoon in preparation for Happy Hour, that now was the time to discuss it.

I knocked hesitantly, and the voice within asked, "_Who is it?"_

"It's Rhodri," I answered.

There was silence for a moment, and then the door opened, revealing a puzzled-looking Elrond.

"That was a rather odd knock, Rhodri. You usually have a very distinct rhythm." He rapped out the shave-and-a-haircut rhythm on the door jamb.

"Sorry. Bit antsy," I confessed.

"So it seems," he remarked. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"That would be good, actually," I said with a relieved sigh, and followed him inside. He followed me out to the balcony with the customary wine and we took our usual seats.

"Tell me what troubles you, Rhodri," he said, watching me with interest.

I drummed my fingers on the armrest of my chair agitatedly. "I can't work out how to word it," I murmured.

"You don't have to use beautiful words with me, you know," Elrond reassured me. "At this point, we are essentially siblings." He gave me the first genuine smile I'd seen on him in months, and it was like a balm for my racing mind. But then, if he was being genuine, why was he like this?

"Well, all right," I said uneasily. "I'll get to the heart of the matter, then: you've been acting differently this last little while, and it's got me a bit worried."

"What do you mean?" he asked, though he didn't seem surprised. In fact, it seemed like I had confirmed a suspicion of his, and he wanted to know more.

"You've been somewhat distant of late," I elaborated. "A little more reserved. And, well, since it seemed to happen around the time we went to Dol Guldur, I'm concerned that I've done something to unsettle you or make you suspicious of me."

Elrond sighed and nodded. "It's true, Dol Guldur has had an impact on me in a way. I still do not know much about what happened after hitting that wall left me unconscious, and I was afraid to ask you for an account of it in case it upset you."

"Well, I'm an open book," I guaranteed quickly. "I probably should have told you this earlier, but I keep my mind very open for Glorfindel, you, Celebrían, Bregedúr, and Gil-Galad. Just you five. I purposely make it easy for you all to read me as easily as Galadriel can. My memories, with the exceptions of my romantic, medical, and professional life, plus confidential information entrusted to me by others, are all readily available as well."

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "That is putting an awful lot at others' fingertips."

I shrugged. "I trust you," I said simply. "What do I have to worry about?"

His expression softened. "I am touched, Rhodri," he said with a quiet smile.

I clapped him on the shoulder, hoping to keep him on track before he got sentimental. "Now, do you want to see what happened while you were out cold?" I asked.

He nodded, and when I locked eyes with him, I could feel his vision penetrate my mind like a torch shining through the windows. I summoned the memory, and for a vivid few minutes, he was me. A thrill of panic seemed to envelop him when he saw Sauron rise through the floor and watch Curumo. He gasped when he felt Sauron wriggle in his arms and Curumo watched on. I heard a harsh, furious exhalation as he caught sight of Curumo's smirk and made to smack him in the chops.

I kept him in the memory just a little bit longer so Elrond could feel the fear I experienced the moment after I had belted Curumo to the ground and heard Elrond castigate me, fixing me with that wide-eyed, disbelieving frown.

With that, the memory had come to a close, and our eye contact broke.

"Oh, Rhodri," Elrond said contritely after a moment. "I wish I'd known sooner. I should have asked."

"You're perfectly within your rights to be suspicious of a situation you weren't awake for, Elrond," I said matter-of-factly. "You really woke up at a rather awkward time, and the reason I gave you then was less than informative."

"I didn't suspect your character in any way," Elrond clarified. "I did, however, worry that you… I don't really know."

"Got carried away with an idea for which I had no proof?" I suggested mildly.

"Not even that, but rather what your punching him would determine for the White Council, and if he would simply flee to Sauron as a result," he said heavily.

"But then, if he is as far gone as you maintain, we would not have swayed him either way."

"If only," I groaned. "Smug, power-hungry wastrel that he is."

Elrond raised his eyebrows in agreement and took a sip of wine. "This is a frightening time to be alive."

"You said a mouthful there, mate."


	42. Hope springs eternal

We pick up a lot more than we think we do. Even for those who are seemingly unobservant (case in point: myself), merely casting an eye over a page in a book you've never read will make you more likely to answer questions about it correctly. Those gut feelings you get about whether someone's good or bad come from tiny signals that you don't consciously notice but have observed and processed all the same.

I'm inclined to believe it was precisely this phenomenon that drove me to interrupt the comfortable silence that followed Elrond's and my discussion.

"You're still troubled," I said to him in an insouciant tone as I traced my finger quietly around the rim of my wine glass. "Something else is going on, isn't it?"

"You read my mind," he murmured, eyes fixed on the scenery in front of him.

I gasped dramatically and looked at him. "Elrond, how _rude!"_ I squeaked with puckish indignance. "I _told_ you I don't read minds here-"

"I meant it as a _figure of speech_, you fool," Elrond cut me off, rolling his eyes and smiling as he gave me a playful shove.

"Oh. Hm," I cleared my throat gruffly, attempting to frown but failing as my mouth curved up at the sides. "Yes, well, carry on, then." I waved a hand, inviting him to elucidate.

"I have been worried for a while," Elrond said vaguely, evidently gearing himself up for another good old-fashioned round of "make Rhodri work for crumbs of context." Never, and I mean never, had someone come so close to wanting psychological help without actually asking for it as Elrond did. Still, it made for a fun game, and he seemed happy enough with the arrangement and got some benefit out of it.

"Oh, right," I said casually, slouching comfortably in my chair. "I suppose this was going on long before Dol Guldur, yes?"

"Indeed," he replied. "But it has come to a head only now, it seems."

"So, what, the thing at Dol Guldur was the straw that broke the horse's back, then?"

Elrond hummed in confirmation. "But it all seems to come down to one situation overall that is causing all of the problems everywhere else."

"Oh, I see what you're saying," I said, the penny dropping. "You have a lot of different things on your mind and they're all driven by one bigger issue that has suddenly got worse?"

"Quite," he said with a sigh.

"And now that that big problem has become more severe, everything else around it suddenly feels…" I pretended to trail off so that the urge to finish my sentence would get a little more information out of him.

"Unmanageable, yes," he filled in. "And not just that, but suddenly the consequences of everything seem more dire. I rule over Imladris alone, but I feel responsible for areas far beyond those borders."

"Are you talking about the Men now?"

Elrond nodded.

"Mm," I acknowledged. "Hard to not feel an affinity for your brother's descendants."

He kept his eyes on the sunset, but I saw a wistful look flash over his face, and I knew he was listening.

"But do you feel obligated to them in any way?"

"I… hmm… not through any repercussions from them, I do not think," he said after a while. "But I think I would feel immensely guilty if I did not do my utmost to assist them where I could."

"So you'd rather overwork yourself for the privilege of being absolutely sure you had done what you had to, is what I'm hearing here," I said, watching him closely now.

"I suppose that is what it boils down to, yes," he conceded.

"And if you don't overwork yourself, that's when the nerves set in…?"

"It's certainly when they're at their worst."

"Are you able to get any down time from this worrying?" I probed.

He drew up his shoulders like he was about to shrug, but held them there a moment before completely slackening them.

"In decreasing measures--" he confessed, before freezing in surprise when he realised I was poking him in the neck with the base of my wine glass. "May I ask what you're doing?" he enquired calmly after several prods.

"You're tense as all-get-out," I observed. "No wonder you're rubbing your temples all the time."

"There isn't much pain, really" he replied nervously.

"That there is any at all concerns me, since Elves are so hardy and resistant to wear and tear," I returned, eyeing him sceptically. "What exactly is it that's troubling you so much at this particular point?"

"The risk of failure," Elrond answered, barely moving his mouth as he spoke. "Of being too late to stop the catastrophe Sauron has in mind before it starts in earnest." He turned and saw me sitting quietly, frowning as I tapped my lips. "What is it?" he asked curiously.

I turned and looked at him, slightly squinting as I considered my options.

"Ah, Rhodri?" Elrond waved his hand a little to get my attention, arching an eyebrow. "You're staring at me like you're getting ready to rob me."

"Perhaps I am," I replied, raising my eyebrows back. "Or, and this is much more likely, I was wondering if I could interest you in a couple of off-the-books tips that I usually give clients who are stressed out? From one friend with benefits-" I snorted mid-sentence, "to another. What do you say?"

Elrond appeared to ponder my offer as he took another sip of wine, before half-shrugging again and nodding. "Why not," he acquiesced.

"Why not indeed," I answered as I shot him a thumbs-up. "It's free, so you might as well make the most of it."

I straightened up in my chair and held up my index finger. "Number one is to be realistic about your responsibilities and how much power you actually have to change things. The ring on your fingers is Vilya, not the One Ring."

Elrond's eyes widened at my mention of his jewellery. "I never told you about Vilya-" he spluttered, "Gil-Galad instructed me to never tell a soul- and it's invisible to all except the other ring-bearers."

"Elrond," I said calmly, "I am a Maia. You would not _believe_ the shit these eyes have had to see." I shook my head and shuddered. "Trust me, the Ring is the least shocking of it," I assured him, though he looked anything but as he grimaced in sympathy.

"Anyway, we're getting off topic. The point is that you know you can't put off the worst case scenario happening on your own, even if you went totally despotic and assumed control over all the Mannish kingdoms- which you and I both know they would never allow." I looked at him square in the eye now, and he nodded in agreement. "And realistically, most of the work you do that goes above and beyond the call of duty to Men is... well, _worrying._"

"In what sense?" Elrond enquired. "I spend all my time worrying, or that it concerns you?"

"Initially I meant the former, but the latter is equally applicable, so I'll say both," I clarified. "Those days where we've been sitting in the same study, hunched over our respective mountains of paperwork, I've seen you sit there for half hour blocks not doing anything, and I can tell you're using that time to worry."

Elrond pursed his lips. "How do you know I wasn't merely deep in thought?"

"You slouch in your chair when you daydream, and when you're stressing, you sit like this," I leaned forward, put my elbow on the table and propped my head on my hand, my fingers resting over my mouth.

He chuckled weakly at my impression of him. "I had thought I was quite good at masking my emotions, but it seems I still have a way to go yet."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," I said with a laugh as I straightened up. "Most people I've spoken to say they find you incredibly mysterious. That's hardly a surprise, though, since you don't seem to let many people get too close to you."

"I am fulfilled with the friends I have," Elrond replied with a soft smile.

Damn, that heartfelt comment came out of nowhere and hit hard. Now it was my turn to be touched. "Looks like the privileged few got lucky, then," I said quietly, smiling back. "These other poor sods," I declared loudly as I made a sweeping gesture at the society beyond the balcony, "don't know what they're missing."

He giggled like a fool, and there was a brief silence as our minds slowly turned back to the matter at hand.

"Well, where do I draw the line, then?" he asked.

"Depends on how much you want to do," I replied. "Right now, I'd say you're helping as much as you possibly can, raising Estel and preparing him for what's going to be a very demanding life as a monarch, and he will have the power to control Gondor and Arnor when he unites them as one kingdom. That's all the work done already, really."

Elrond rubbed his chin and said saidly, "That puts a lot of responsibility on his shoulders."

"It does, but if anyone can prepare him for it adequately, it's you. If he takes the responsibility or not, well, that's a different story, but he's a good kid. I think he'll be all right, really."

"I hope so," he uttered under his breath, steepling his fingers.

"Beyond that, though, there isn't really much you can do, I'm afraid," I continued after a moment. "You give good advice, and there has to be a point where you provide others with the space to make an informed choice. You're not made to be an autocrat, friendo."

Elrond shook his head. "No, I'm not," he conceded.

"Second thing," I held up another finger, "is that you need to play your worst-case scenario fantasies right to the end. I think you're stopping a bit too early."

Elrond looked completely baffled now. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, when you consider the trajectory of things going wrong, where do they tend to finish?"

He looked perplexed, but mumbled, "At the point when Sauron assumes world domination."

"Mmm," I nodded. "Exactly. But it's not as though life will suddenly stop there. Even if he did take the throne as Evil Overlord Number One, things would still continue. Men don't just take tyranny lying down, and they would try all sorts of ways to overthrow him. And you know, the Valar would probably feel obligated to intervene after a while, too."

I paused for a second as I considered my own words. "Bit silly of them not to step in for Sauron, really, since he's only a Maia."

Elrond goggled at me for daring to speak out against my masters. I shrugged. "I mean, it's true. But they put such a high price on people's autonomy here that there's not much to be done for it. Anyway, try those two things and see how you go. Just remember that there's always a Plan B, and if you don't find it, someone else will."

He nodded. "You're not bad at this psychology business," he said after a while.

"Thanks. You're pretty acceptable as a ruler," I replied with a grin, half wondering to myself if this meant he was a step closer to being interested in therapy.

"Oh!" I added, "and I forgot to mention: those two tips take constant practice. You won't suddenly radiate peace and serenity. But you'll be calmer soon enough." I nodded with a smile.

"I certainly hope so," Elrond said worriedly. "Have you got anything for stiff muscles?" he rubbed his neck absent-mindedly.

"Sure. Progressive muscle relaxation, it's called. Divide your body into thirds," I drew an invisible line across my shoulders and then over my belly button, "and tense all the muscles in one third as you slowly breathe in. Then, as you breathe out, suddenly relax them. Do that a few times for each third and then move onto the next one. It'll help you become aware of when you're involuntarily tensing them."

He nodded. "That seems like a good idea. I'll try that."

I smiled. "Hey, what do you say we go for that walk? I have this funny feeling Glorfindel is-"

I was interrupted by a frantic knock at the study door. Elrond and I looked at each other and wandered to the door. When Elrond opened it, sure enough, Glorfindel was standing there looking like he was about to burst from excitement. His eyes were so wide I could see the whites clearly, and his teeth gleamed as he gave us a brilliant smile.

"Well, _someone's _a keen bean," I said, grinning at his infectious enthusiasm. "What's going on? I take it this is no time for wine?"

"Absolutely not," Glorfindel said as he shook his head fervently. "Come quickly. The sun has almost set!" He grabbed Elrond and me by the arms and frog-marched us at record speed to the yard that Gilraen and Aragorn's quarters backed onto, and we were greeted with a sight that made my jaw drop. Estel was whooping with delight as he bounced up and down on-

"Fuck me with a frying pan," I whispered, looking at Glorfindel in disbelief. "You made a trampoline!"

Granted, it was not exactly the same sort of trampoline as the one I was used to. In fact, this one was much springier. He appeared to have tied the trampoline between two springy branches, and trained a lot of tightly coiled climber vines to feed into the edge of the fabric as a sort of dual fall-catching net and reinforced springset, making the tension in the material even higher. Judging by how little Estel was soaring up in the air, I would have guessed that someone as heavy as Glorfindel could have easily ascended to a height of four metres with a good bounce.

"You _did _say I should see if I couldn't think of a way to make one here," he said to me excitedly.

Elrond was speechless, but a smile was blossoming over his face as he watched his foster child having the absolute time of his life.

"Ada!" he shouted. "Look what Uncle Glorfindel made! Are you watching how high I can go?"

"I certainly am," Elrond called back with a smile, his eyes flicking up and down in synchrony with the springy youth.

"This is a triumph," I declared, putting an arm around Glorfindel's waist. "Absolutely outstanding."

Glorfindel beamed at the praise, and Elrond nodded quietly in agreement, genuinely pleased.

"He will need a little joy to look back on soon enough, I imagine," Elrond murmured to us both.

His words sobered us a little, and Glorfindel put an arm around his friend as we both gave Elrond a small smile.

"It'll be all right, you know, El," I said.

"Mmm," Elrond hummed, a note of hope in his tone now.


	43. Growing pains

I loved the times when Olórin came to visit us in Imladris. These days, he seldom brought glad tidings with him, but he was such a top-notch bloke that even hearing bad news didn't feel quite so dreadful when he was there.

He stopped by to say hello a few months after we'd parted ways at Dol Guldur. On his visit this time, he'd brought me a souvenir from the town he'd accompanied his friend, one Bilbo Baggins, back to from Erebor.

"A pipe! So cool," I enthused as I ran my finger along the pipe's long, wooden stem.

"I saw you eyeing mine off on our journey to Dol Guldur," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"I don't smoke, to be honest, but I've always wanted one as a prop to make me look all pensive and intellectual," I confessed as I admired the shape of it.

Elrond snorted at this admission.

I slowly turned my head and looked at my friend. "I'm sorry, Elrond, did you say something?" I enquired politely.

"Nothing at all," he said through a smile.

"If I didn't know better," I said haughtily, "I'd say you were a little… jealous, perhaps, that Olórin didn't bring you an accessory to make yourself look clever, too." I raised my eyebrows at Elrond, who rolled his eyes at me.

"Not to worry," I continued. "I'll gladly share with you." I passed him the pipe, which he took with an amused look.

"Please, be my guest. Have the first use of it," I made an inviting gesture.

His eyes shifted between me and the pipe, and he eventually shrugged and popped the end in his mouth.

"Feel smarter?"

Elrond went to speak but the pipe fell out of his mouth, which he caught mid-air. Before he could reattempt to express himself with an unobstructed oral cavity, though, Glorfindel plucked the pipe out of his hand and stuck it between his teeth, fixing us with a smile as he winked roguishly.

"I feel like a genius," Glorfindel mumbled with relish as he sprawled in his chair.

I chuckled. "Well, Olórin, between these two," I jerked my thumb in the direction of my spouse and friend, "I might not see my present until next year, but thank you all the same. I look forward to giving the impression of cleverness one day in the distant future."

Olórin laughed and shook his head gently.

"Tell me, Olórin," Elrond continued after taking a sip of wine, "while we're vaguely on the topic, what news of the Shire?"

Olórin's face remained totally expressionless except that his brows knitted together. We watched him closely, waiting for him to say something. After a short while, his expression softened a little and he looked at us with intense scrutiny before permitting himself to begin.

"This must stay strictly between us," he stipulated. "No mention of it to the White Council, even."

We exchanged glances for a moment in bewilderment but then nodded in agreement.

Olórin, satisfied, began to speak.

"Young Mr. Baggins showed me an interesting item that had come into his possession during his travels. A ring. A 'magic' ring, as he described it to me."

Elrond, Glorfindel, and I all raised our eyebrows.

"Is it-" asked Elrond, before Glorfindel cut him off.

"Do you think it's-"

Olórin raised a hand calmly. "I do not know," he said. "Nothing about its properties were disclosed to me, nor did I pursue the matter with Bilbo, as he had kept it hidden from me for some time."

"Where did he get it?" I spoke up.

"By Bilbo's account, if he is to be believed, he won it from a creature named Gollum in a cave somewhere near the High Pass of the Misty Mountains," he answered, tapping his staff on the ground thoughtfully. "Again, I do not know what this ring is, or to whom it originally belonged. I intend to keep half an eye on it all the same, though."

"Keep us abreast of what happens with that, would you," I grumbled worriedly, drumming my fingers on my chin. "We need to do what we can to keep Curumo well away from the Shire, too."

"And Sauron," Elrond added pointedly.

"Oh, yes, him… quite right, Elrond, yes…" I conceded in playfully feigned absent-mindedness. "I wonder where he went, anyway. Back to Mordor, maybe?"

Everyone, including me, shrugged.

"I would hazard a guess that he went there, yes," Olórin murmured. "It would be a reasonable thing to expect; he has dwelled there before."

"His spies wouldn't know to look further west yet, would they?" Glorfindel asked Olórin nervously.

"I very much doubt it, unless any of you decide to go against your word and distribute my news," Olórin replied, his friendly smile conflicting with his eyes as they flashed with warning.

"I don't think that's on the cards, pal," I reassured him as I pat his shoulder.

Glorfindel and Elrond nodded in agreement, and Olórin promised to provide updates before we lapsed into a discontent but companionable silence.

I'm not sure if it was better that we knew about this potential One Ring floating around rural Eriador, or worse. Olórin, being the intrepid vagabond that he was, didn't stay long in Imladris, instead setting out to the west again, perhaps on the hunt for more obscure populations to impress with his fireworks display. He didn't return to provide one of these assured updates before we got official news that Sauron had moved to Mordor.

And wouldn't you know it, the news reached us on the _exact _day of Estel's 20th birthday. I couldn't believe our luck. Glorfindel and I had been helping Elrond, Gilraen, and Erestor get the hall ready for his party that evening. The birthday boy was due to return at any moment from a trip away with Elladan and Elrohir, and we were surprising him with a huge banquet. Tables had been put all around the room, already starting to load up with food. I was in the middle of putting some fruit into a huge bowl when a messenger came in the door beside me silently, soaked with sweat and white as a sheet. He looked like he was about to pass out.

"Uh oh," I said as he teetered a little on the spot, his jaw slackening a little. I knew that look from when Estel was a small child and had eaten some rotten berries. The others, hearing my foreboding sound, turned around just in time to see me quickly tip the fruit out of the bowl and hold it under this Elf's chin as he proceeded to violently empty his stomach in front of us. The others, alarmed, jogged over to where we stood, Glorfindel closing the door behind us to give the poor sod a little privacy.

"There there, mate," I said, holding the bowl in one hand and patting his back with the other as he retched noisily. "Get it all up, that's the way."

I frowned a little to myself. Elves never fell ill, so this had to be an emotional reaction. What could get an _Elf_ so het up that they vomited straight into the good fruit bowl like that?

When he came up for air, I passed him some water, which he took shakily and knocked back.

"Sit, Silivros," Elrond said kindly, guiding him into a chair. "What happened?"

Silivros took a few deep breaths before he spoke in a shaky voice. "My Lord Elrond, I receive word that Sauron has re-established himself in Mordor."

We exchanged concerned glances. That wasn't terrific news, but it wasn't really something to lose your lunch over. Glorfindel made to say something, but Silivros spoke again.

"The Nazgûl had been preparing it for him," he continued, getting a little stronger now. "Now they have spread far and wide over the land in the south-west- searching, I am told, but for what, I do not know."

I bit my lip. This was a more worrying development, and I could start to see the cause for the stomach-turning, but he held up his hand as Elrond went to speak.

"And he has allies," he said finally. "The Corsairs of Umbar."

Ah. Okay. Well, now we were getting into the scary shit. Umbar was the capital of Harad, where I was presumed to have passed through when I had first arrived in Middle-Earth. The population of Harad was huge- more than enough to overwhelm the neighbouring Gondor along with whatever evil things Sauron had working for him, especially if Rohan wasn't interested in coming to its aid (it wasn't).

"I see," Elrond said tensely. "Have you heard anything more?"

Silivros shook his head and advised that he had not.

"How about I take you to the hospital wing, Silivros," I offered. "We'll get something in you to settle your nerves a little, eh?"

"Do that, Rhodri," Elrond said with a nod, opening the door for me as I propped Silivros up on my shoulder and took him out of the hall. Glorfindel left the room, too, with the newly-decorated fruit bowl in hand to clean up.

When we both returned, Elrond, Gilraen, and Erestor were back on their setup tasks, albeit rather more slowly now. When they heard the door open, they drifted back into the middle of the room, and Glorfindel and I went up to them.

"Silivros is fine," I told them. "I gave him a spoonful of sugar in a nip of brandy and he was right in no time."

The others nodded in acknowledgement. Gilraen, who wasn't especially involved in the business with Sauron, went back to preparing the hall.

"This is a very worrying development," Elrond said to us quietly. We all nodded.

"Listen," I said to them, "Let's just get through tonight first, and we'll pick this up tomorrow. The party's an hour away now, and we can't put it off. We won't have too much harm from leaving discussions for a few hours when our minds are clear."

The party wasn't any ordinary birthday celebration: today was the day that Estel came of age. His world was about to be shaken up beyond what he could have imagined, because it would also be the day that he learned about who his father was and thus about who _he _was. He was going to become Aragorn today.

It was hard to know if concealing the truth for two decades was the right thing. In one way, they seemed not to have a choice, afraid that revealing who he was might expose him to danger. I, personally, thought that they should have been upfront with him about his heritage much earlier. This was all such a lot of information to dump on a 20-year-old, and drip-feeding information over the years would have made it all much easier for him to deal with. At the same time, though, perhaps the poor kid deserved an idyllic sort of childhood before he was thrown out of the feelgood Elven world, one that never was his to begin with, into the harsher, grittier human world.

In any case, the time to make conjectures over such things was long gone. Elrond and Gilraen would be taking him aside after the feast to give him 'the talk' (about his father's career, to be clear, not about what his father and mother did in their free time to produce him).

An hour of decorating and stocking later and the hall was decked out with a feast fit for a king (or heir apparent, as the case may be). Satisfied, we left the hall together to get our Sunday best on, and with impeccable timing, the three lone rangers strode down the hall, caked in dirt and looking like they'd had the time of their lives.

"Ah, hello, you three!" Elrond greeted them fondly. "How was your expedition?"

"Brilliant," Elladan replied with a grin. "Estel was magnificent-"

"He killed a whole pack of Orcs single-handedly!" Elrohir added excitedly.

Estel blushed a little, but looked thrilled with the effusive praise all the same as the twins continued to wax lyrical about him.

"I wish to hear about these triumphs in greater detail shortly," Elrond said after a short while, holding up a hand gently to steady his eldest two. "For now, though, I wish for you three to clean yourselves from top to toe, dress in your nicest outfits, and then meet us back here."

With nods all around, they disappeared, and we all went to our separate quarters to get fabulous.

Upon re-emerging, we made our way back to where we were meant to meet. Elrond, Gilraen, and Erestor were already there, all tarted up, and Elladan and Elrohir arrived shortly after, followed by Estel.

"There he is," Gilraen said as he came up to her. She put an arm around her offspring and gave him an affectionate squeeze.

"This way, Estel, if you please," Erestor said with a fond smile at his pupil, leading us all to the entryway to the dining hall. He opened the door and inside was a very large collection of Elves, all of whom had been touched by Estel's presence in some way or another. They heard the door open, and turned to face him, breaking into loud, joyful applause.

"Happy birthday, my boy," I heard Estel's mother whisper to him amid the noise as the five of us started to clap as well. Estel looked taken aback but filled to the brim with excitement as he turned to us and said, "Is this for me?"

"No, Estel, it's for your Uncle Glorfindel because he managed to fit three bread rolls in his mouth at once last night," I said in a deadpan voice, looking at him with loving disbelief. "Coming of age is definitely second place in terms of priorities, don't you think?"

My nephew laughed and rolled his eyes gently. "I was just checking, Auntie," he retorted with a smile.

"Ever the prudent one," I said with a chuckle, pulling him into a hug. "Happy birthday, sprout."

"Now," I said as I gestured grandly at the interior of the hall, "where will you sit, and what will you eat?"

"Ah, yes, the big questions," Glorfindel acknowledged.

Estel picked a spot, loaded his plate, and with that, the party had started.

And it went on.

And on.

And my god, on further still.

I shit you not, the festivities went on until the next morning. It had been ages since we'd last had a celebration that big, and people were well keen to get every bit of joy they could out of it. There was a seemingly endless reserve of energy in all the partygoers, musicians, dancers, and the birthday boy himself. It was hard to describe to Estel how much of a joy he was to all of us, and I hoped that this event would communicate at least an inkling of that.

I think he got the message well enough. The kid danced and mingled and mingled and danced the entire evening long. As the sun started to rise, the guests began to slowly trickle out, and eventually, Estel, quite tired from dancing at this point, came back to where Glorfindel and I were sitting with Gilraen, Erestor, and Elrond. He drew up a seat and sank into it, his dark hair flopping into his eyes.

"How are you enjoying yourself?" Gilraen asked with a smile.

"This has been excellent," Estel answered breathlessly, looking immensely pleased with himself. "I am a little weary now, though, I must admit."

"In which case you should come with us now," said Elrond, rising from his seat. Estel looked at all of us, confused. I smiled and nodded at him, and he got up. Together, Gilraen and Elrond each rested a hand on Estel's shoulders and led their child out of the hall before they could be missed.

Erestor, Glorfindel, and I all heaved a sigh. It was a strange feeling, getting wistful about an arbitrary moment in time like that. Estel had matured into an adult over long years. It wasn't as though his birthday had suddenly seen him sprout a beard and grow almost 7 feet tall. And yet, everything seemed to have come to a head in this bittersweet moment.

Erestor had an even harder time coming to terms with it, being Estel's main tutor. He had spent hours a day over many years teaching him, and Erestor's pride in what a remarkable person his student had grown to be was constantly evident.

Glorfindel put an arm gently around a tearful Erestor's shoulder and smiled at him.

"You've done a wonderful job, mellon," he said encouragingly.

"And I doubt it will be ever fully over," I added. "Even when matured, we float back to the people who gave us comfort and education in our early years. He'll be back, you'll see."

Erestor sniffed and nodded, a wet smile coming over his face.

"We should start clearing things up," Erestor said after a moment, clearly not pleased with his departure from his usual gravitas and keen for a distraction.

Glorfindel and I nodded, and thus began the mammoth process of making the hall look like nobody had ever been in it before.

It took a handful of hours to get it looking usable again, but we were eventually able to file out of the hall feeling satisfied with ourselves and ready to go to bed, just like the rest of the population who had gone to the party.

Erestor waved goodbye in the corridor and made his way to his own quarters to cry in peace, leaving Glorfindel and I to amble along to our room. Along the way, I got a brainwave for part of that research project- the one that Sauron's shittiness had interrupted _multiple_ times now. Excited, I excused myself from Glorfindel and scuttled away to my office to write it down before I forgot about it.

I entered my office, shut the door, grabbed the first clean piece of paper my hand could reach, and started frantically scribbling the idea down. I was on a roll for a while there, but a strange noise coming from outside interrupted the silence. It almost sounded like gasping. Frowning, I put down my pen and slowly got up, making for the window behind me, murmuring to myself, "I swear to god, if someone's been stabbed outside my window…"

When I opened the window and looked out, there was nothing, but then I glanced down and saw a sprawled-out Estel, sitting on the grass and leaning against the building. His eyes (so far as I could tell) were wide as dinner-plates, fixed on something way out in the distance, and he was the source of the noise, his deep, breaths getting rapid now.

"Estel?" I said gently, reaching out the window and putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's Auntie Rhodri. What's going on, darling?"

"I'm going mad, Auntie," he choked, looking up at me desperately. "And… and my head is too light… why are my fingers _tingling?_" he shrieked now.

Oh dear. It sounded like that talk had overwhelmed him. And now, here he was under my window, moments away from passing out from hyperventilation and thinking he was losing his mind. The poor kid was having an panic attack.

I quickly grabbed a book, propped the window open with it, and climbed out of it, sitting on the grass with him.

"Estel, honey, you're not going mad," I said to him patiently, taking his hands in mine. "I want you to slow your breathing right down for me. Breathe in," I gestured for him to take a breath, "and now slowly out again." I repeated the process until he was steady enough to get to his feet, and together, we walked around the building into my office.

"What on earth happened back there, Auntie?" he asked me, still very shaken up as I handed him a glass of water.

"That was a very normal reaction to hearing shocking news, kiddo," I said, raising an eyebrow. "It's called a panic attack. Makes you feel like you're losing your mind, can't catch your breath, and you started breathing much too fast, which was why you got lightheaded and your fingers started to tingle."

"Oh," he said numbly, looking at his hands.

"Doesn't help that you haven't slept in a day and a half," I added.

"Two and a half days, actually," he confessed under his breath.

"Definitely not wise," I affectionately scolded. "Have you ever had a panic attack before?" Estel shook his head.

"All right, well, come back and find me if you have any more of those and you want some help for that, because I've treated that problem a few times. Do you want to talk about what's going on, though?"

"Not with a psychologist, I don't think," he answered softly.

"How about with an auntie?" I replied.

"I'd like that," he said with a weak smile.

I nodded and motioned for us to sit on the couch together.

"Tell me what you're thinking, kiddo," I invited.

Estel sighed as he tapped his fingers together, and slowly started to speak.

"Ada- well, Elrond, I suppose-" he winced, stung by his own words. "And my mother, too, they both told me about who my father is. They- I'm an _heir, _Auntie." Estel shook his head in disbelief. "I've lived here all my life. I was going to grow old here with my family, but it seems that that isn't the life path that lies ahead for me after all. It's all so overwhelming. I've lost everything." He clutched the sides of his head for a moment, and then set his hands back on his knees, looking defeated.

"What have you lost?" I asked gently.

"My father," he said bitterly. "My home, my plans, my identity, too."

"Are you sure they're gone? Or have they simply been modified?"

"What's _left _of them?" he lamented miserably.

"Well, for a start, your Ada does not suddenly cease to be such because you became an adult and received background information of your father," I said.

"There's no undoing all the years you two put into building the relationship you have, and it's not void now. So that's one thing," I ticked off one finger.

"Nobody is forbidding you from living in Imladris, and you will always have a place here if you want it, so that's still on the table, too," I ticked another finger.

"I suppose," he murmured. "But what if Ada doesn't treat me the same way any more?"

"Well, kiddo, he's known since you arrived that you're not his own biological offspring, so I don't think this comes as a shock to him. He's going to start treating you like an adult now, though, definitely. Because that's what you are. That takes a bit of getting used to, but it's a normal part of life. Your mother will do the same with you, too."

"That is not especially reassuring either," he grumbled.

"Oh, so you want your parents getting on your arse to make you go to bed at a reasonable hour until you're in your 80s, do you?" I retorted coolly, looking at him in amusement.

Estel scowled. He was a good kid, but by all accounts, Elrond and Gilraen had had the devil's own job getting this rugrat to turn in for the night over the years, and it wasn't a pleasurable experience for any of the involved parties.

"Not particularly," he admitted after a moment.

"Yeah, see, there's good and bad in both options. _Now_, they can only _advise_ you rather than give you an order and expect you to comply. At the same time, they expect you to make responsible choices like all the other adults. Don't worry, they'll always be looking out for you. Parents can't help but do that. You'll always have them."

Estel nodded, calmer and more mollified now.

"What _has _definitely changed," I continued, "is the life you had expected to lead. You now have new options, and while they're not obligations, it's certainly recommended you take them up at some point. You were brought here in much the same way as other heirs of Isildur were, and your Ada prepared them for their role as monarch precisely the way you have been."

"And as for your identity, my love," I said, putting an arm around my nephew now, "that is something that changes over time for everyone, heir apparent or not. Do you know how much work your Uncle Glorfindel and I had to put in so that your Ada would stop shrieking at us whenever we did something risky?"

Estel smiled. "It's just so… _daunting_, I suppose," he said with resignation.

"Sure is. Being a king is a big job," I said openly. "But you have been given the tools to make good, wise judgements. You're a clever kid, and you've got terrific morals. What's more, you're learned in many ways thanks to all of the laborious hours you spent churning out essays for Erestor."

He snorted at that. "Do you think I can do this?"

"Oh, yes, definitely," I replied, waving a hand as though it was obvious.

"I don't feel ready," he murmured.

"That's because you're not ready," I answered with a small shrug. "You've spent your whole life here. You need to go and see a bit more of the world, learn about your country, your people, get a feel for what needs to be done. Then you'll feel ready, I think. Don't worry, there's plenty of time. Just start having a think about what you want to do. You're an adventurer at heart and will get bored before too long here. It'll come. And of course, you know we'll always be here to help where we can." I looked at him affectionately. "You'll be all right, you know, kiddo."

Estel looked back up at me, calm at last, nodded, and gave me a dopey smile. His jaw quivered and eyelids fluttered as he stifled a yawn. Without another word, he started to slouch and lean over to the side of the couch with the armrest.

"What are you doing there?" I asked suspiciously.

"Just resting my eyes a moment, Auntie," Estel replied placidly as he curled his feet up.

"Oh, no you don't," I said quickly and picked him up, propping him on his feet. "I've got stuff to do. I don't want you snoring like a cow while I'm crunching numbers."

He gave me a wicked grin and made his knees buckle, slowly flopping toward the ground.

"I see how it is," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I clamped my hands on his shoulders, holding him upright and frog-marching him out of my office and down the hall toward his sleeping quarters.

"Good lord, anyone would think you were three again- just like your brothers, I swear to god- _exactly_ the sort of thing they'd make me do," I whispered, passers-by watching on in amusement as I made this cooked spaghetti of a human glide through the air back to his own room.

I opened the door, stepped inside, dropped him on his bed, and as I made to leave again, I made sure to say, "Honestly, kids today…" just loud enough for him to hear.


	44. Clandestine freakery

Things were tense over the next couple of days. The news about Sauron returning had slowly gotten around, and the collective unease made the air just about buzz sometimes. At the same time, though, there were small victories. No more reports of panic attacks from Estel, Erestor was keeping it together, and everyone else seemed to continue to putter along, their fear having not totally overwhelmed their capacity to live life.

Once the stressful discussions we'd postponed were out of the way, I had forced myself to sit down and work through the tedious task of doing the statistical calculations for my research project (yes, the one that Sauron kept bloody interrupting), to make sure that my findings were likely to be indicative of a hard and fast rule rather than something that had occurred by chance. I had, essentially, become a hermit, emerging only to eat, sleep, and engage in Happy Hour, and it was probably for the best that I had the knock on my door when I did.

"Oh, Gilraen!" I said as I looked up and saw her standing in the doorway. "Good to see you. Come in, come in. Sit down and have a drink with me."

Gilraen shut the door gently behind her, took a seat, and accepted a glass of some of the apple juice I had purloined from the kitchens, her face gentle and solemn all the while.

"How are things?" I asked as I scratched out one last note on my calculations and packed the papers away.

"They are… concerning, as a matter of fact," Gilraen replied, a shadow passing over her face. "In fact, my worries are what brings me here today. You help with giving counsel on things pertaining to the mind, so I thought perhaps you might be able to shed a little light on something for me."

"I'd be glad to help," I said with a smile. "I just need to mention a couple of things first, and if you're all right with them, we'll start talking."

Gilraen nodded and interestingly enough, she paid close attention to my ethics and confidentiality rant. This was a lady who never missed a beat, and it was easy to see how her child had turned out the way he did. She consented, autographed the bit of paper, and discussions began.

"What's on your mind?" I enquired.

"It isn't so much _my _mind that gives me cause for concern," Gilraen replied heavily. "Rather, it's Estel's"

"Oh?"

"He was acting strangely yesterday. Did you notice anything?" she asked, looking up at me.

"I… ah… haven't noticed anything much if it's not been occurring in these four walls, I'm afraid," I admitted sheepishly, feeling my cheeks warm a little.

Gilraen, not bothered, continued. "Ah, well, he was somewhat… _dreamy_, I suppose you could call it. Dreamy and subdued. I confronted him about it, and he told me he has fallen in love."

"Oh, really?" I answered with interest. "There are no other mortals here that I know of. Has he fallen in love with an Elf?"

"He has," Gilraen replied, now looking extremely grave. "With Elrond's daughter, no less."

My eyebrows shot up now and my insides turned to ice. "Ah," I vocalised quietly. "I see your concern. And, ah, what does Arwen think of him?"

"I do not know," she said. "So far, her heart seems not to have been won over, so it is possible that it may be unrequited, but I believe that in time, she could come to love him back."

Frowning a little, I leaned on my armrest, covering my mouth with my fingers, hoping to look contemplative when internally, I was exerting some effort in stopping my bowels from evacuating themselves from the shock of it all. Everybody knew the tale of Beren and Lúthien, the romance that the mortals ate up with a spoon and the Elves and Maiar lamented over. I immediately dispelled the thought of Arwen sealing the same fate for herself as her ancestor had and forced myself to focus on the here and now.

"So what about this brings you to my office, then?" I asked her after I had collected myself.

"I seek your counsel on how to proceed, knowing what I do now," she answered carefully, her keen eyes scrutinising my face closely.

I was feeling hugely nervous now, but pushed myself to remain cerebral about it.

"That depends on two things," I began steadily. "How much you intend to involve yourself in your child's life now that he is grown up, for one. Is that something you plan to do much of?"

"Normally I would not," Gilraen admitted, "but at the same time, I firmly believe that Elves and Men should not intermarry. In my opinion, this is quite a serious matter." She nodded her head once in conviction, and then lay her hands in her lap.

"And to be truthful," Gilraen continued, "I do not know what Lord Elrond would think of this. He has fostered the heirs of Isildur out of the kindness of his heart, and I am not sure what would become of his goodwill if he found out that my son is trying to win the heart of his only daughter."

I pursed my lips, loath to say anything either way. I felt terribly guilty for it, but out of all this, Elrond and Arwen were my primary concerns. I wasn't sure how Elrond would take another loss at this point, especially if it was one of his children, whom (along with Celebrían) he adored above everything else in life. As for Arwen, I had absolutely no desire for her to have to live as a mortal and experience the gradual onset of age and, eventually, death. As much of a unique and wonderful journey as mortality was, I was selfish and wanted her present through all of the long years that awaited the rest of her family and contemporaries.

"No, that's a tough one," I murmured noncommittally before lapsing into confused silence a moment longer, my train of thought having gone violently off its tracks.

"You said there was more than one thing to consider," Gilraen prompted after what turned out to be a pregnant pause I had failed to notice.

"Ah, right, yes," I said quickly, giving my head a quick shake. "Sorry about that, Gilraen. The other thing would be to establish exactly how much of an impact you as his mother can actually have on this. If you forbade him, for example, from pursuing anything with Arwen, would he obey you?"

Gilraen tapped her fingers together as she considered my question. "Mmm… of that I am also unsure. I imagine he will pay close attention to my words but will inevitably make his own choice."

_Make his own choice. _The words struck me like blows. I sighed and nodded as another wave of shock passed over me before I finally admitted it to myself: this was too much. I could not remain professional in this situation. If I influenced her in any way that would allow that relationship to be pursued, I would never be able to look Elrond in the eye again. How would I comfort him if Arwen, god forbid, actually did elect to seal herself to Estel? No, there was too much at stake here. I had to tell her.

"Gilraen, I'm going to be honest with you, here," I said to her. "I will not be able to give you impartial advice on this matter in my capacity as a psychologist. I love you and your son dearly, as I do Elrond and his daughter, and there is much that has happened in the Peredhel family that has caused so much heartbreak as it is. Frankly, my instinctive urge is to do everything I can to ensure they are not subjected to any more suffering, as such a relationship would invariably bring were it allowed to blossom." I looked up sadly into her silver eyes, clear as a moonlit night, and a tiny smile came across her beautiful, clever face.

"I had anticipated something like this might happen," she said sagely. "I appreciate your honesty, Rhodri."

"I'm sorry that I can't be of any real help to you, Gilraen," I said remorsefully. "You're a very intelligent woman, and I'm sure you will make a good choice. Whatever you decide to do, though, I must ask something of you."

"Oh?"

"Elrond might not find any of this out through his own intuition," I began. I let out a puff of air and looked up at her. "I've never begged anyone for anything in my life, Gilraen, but I'm begging you now," I took her hands in mine and didn't take my eyes off hers. "If at any point you have a reasonable suspicion that Estel and Arwen both have feelings for each other, please, _please _let me divulge this conversation with Elrond."

For a minute there I wasn't sure what Gilraen was going to do. My pathetic face must have moved her somewhat, though, because she nodded gently.

"Very well," she said. "I'm sure you know that for my part, I hope nothing comes of this, either. In fact, I think your request has made it quite clear as to what I must do. Thank you, Rhodri."

Giving my hands a squeeze, she stood up and left the room without another word.

I sat there in a stunned silence for I don't know how long before deciding to totter out and hunt up some leftover birthday cake. A few minutes later, I was loitering in the courtyard munching away on a colossal slice of honey cake, my mind a million miles away. Or, at the very least, far away enough that I hadn't noticed that my cake had disappeared abnormally quickly. I only found out when I went to take a bite and nearly shattered my teeth when they didn't go through anything but thin air before the top row gnashed into the bottom row.

"What the-" I said in a daze as I nursed my throbbing jaw.

"You looked like you were struggling with that piece of cake on your own, there, Auntie Rhodri," a slightly muffled voice from behind me said.

I jerked around and saw Elladan and Elrohir, each holding a mouthful of my honey cake, their own gobs already quite stuffed with it.

"We hate to see you suffer like that," Elrohir said sweetly, him and his sibling looking the picture of innocence as they smiled at me warmly.

"You are aware that there are over 60 pieces of honey cake left in the kitchens right now, yes?" I asked them, arching an eyebrow as my eyes darted between them.

"Oh, yes," Elladan replied with a nod as he popped the next bit of cake into his mouth. "But you were having difficulty with this particular one."

"Well, what a relief I have you two here to help me out," I cried in a tone of melodramatic relief, clapping the back of my hand to my head. "And what do you good Samaritans do when you're not helping poor, defenceless psychologists cope with a superfluity of baked goods, hmm?"

"Delivering messages on behalf of our father, as a matter of fact," Elladan replied, straightening himself up in an attempt to look official.

"Indeed," piped up Elrohir, copying his brother's stance. "Ada has asked for the pleasure of your company in his study, if you are available."

"You look available," Elladan remarked, raising an eyebrow at me. "All your cake is gone, so you have no good reason to be standing around the courtyard."

"I don't believe this," I said. "First my cake disappears from right under my nose, and now I'm getting the move-along in my own foyer?"

"These are strange times, Auntie Rhodri," Elladan said with a shrug.

"You can say that a-bloody-gain," I murmured, shaking my head as I made for Elrond's study.

"No need to repeat it, really, it seems you heard it correctly the first time," Elrohir called after me.

I turned around and stared at these two hellions, bold as brass as they beamed back at me with the most coprophagic smiles I'd seen in decades. Shaking my head, I waved goodbye to them and made for Elrond's study, hoping this friendly chat wasn't going to be about what Gilraen came in to discuss today.

I rapped my knuckles smartly on the door, and was invited inside by the voice within.

"Hello there," I said happily as I stepped in, closing the door behind me. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this summons?"

Elrond, who had been hunched over his desk the entire time, turned around and smiled at me broadly. Jesus, everyone was in a really dapper mood. What on earth was going on around here?

I smiled back at him blankly. Elrond had an amused look on his face as he spoke.

"Well, Rhodri, I appreciate you coming over so quickly," he began.

"Any time," I replied. "Is it an emergency?"

He shook his head, "It is not. I called you in today as a follow-up to the discussions we had regarding Sauron's re-establishment in Mordor."

"I see," I said as I took a seat and adopted a comfortable slouch. "What is it we're following up on, exactly?"

"Well," said Elrond as he got up and slowly paced the room with his back to me, "as you know, when anything significant with Sauron arises, we do tend to call an assembly of the White Council."

"Y-yes?" I confirmed, now getting quite bewildered.

"I have just sent out letters to the members, and have scheduled the next assembly for two years from now," Elrond said, turning on his heel and facing me from across the room, his entertained expression still firmly in place.

"Jolly good," I said in a slow, suspicious voice, nodding. "You don't usually bring me into your study to inform me of this sort of thing, though."

Elrond bit his lip and I could hear a tiny snort come out of him. He wandered over to me and said what I imagine he must have been itching to trot out all day.  
"Well, Rhodri, I would like to remind you that you _did_ forcefully assault the head of the White Council when last we were assembled."

"Oh, _I _see," I said, comprehension finally dawning on me. "So this is why you've had that look on your face since I came in! I suppose you've asked me in here so you can ask your vicious, bloodthirsty friend to not commit a repeat offence on the next meeting?"

"So cynical, Rhodri," Elrond chided playfully. In a split second, he straightened himself up in much the same way his children had done minutes earlier, and watched me with a more refined expression now.

"But yes, you're absolutely right in that I decided to make a point of asking you not to rain blows on Curumo during this next meeting, however frustrating he may be."

I squinted at my best friend and held up my index finger as I began to speak. "First of all," I said with feigned snakiness, "I did not "_rain blows"_ on Curumo, as you so dramatically put it. I only needed one good whack to do what I wanted to do, and I wasn't even hitting him as hard as I could!"

"He was swelling up like a frog before he even hit the ground, _Vinyaten_," Elrond retorted coolly, raising an eyebrow as I lowered at his use of my other name. "Your argument is effectively moot. Next point, please."

"Secondly- what do you _mean _don't punch him again? As if that implies he's going to be at the next meeting!"

"He is still the head of the White Council," he replied with a shrug.

"God, what does it _take_ to get someone ejected from that bloody position?" I groaned despondently as I rubbed my forehead. "Do you mean we're stuck with this vexatious wanker forever?"

"For as long as he is considered suitable to be a wanker, yes," Elrond said, nodding seriously.

A brief emergency period overtook me as I suppressed a sudden, violent urge to laugh. Celebrían, it would seem, had taught her spouse this word at some point. Or was it Glorfindel? Whoever had done it was making me get my just desserts either way.

"Ugh, fine. I tell you what, I won't sock him unless I have as much cause to do so as the last time. That's my first and final offer," I said firmly.

"Well, that's better than nothing, I suppose," Elrond acceded with a hint of weariness.

"I have no idea how anyone can consider him a fit leader right now. Even Olórin doesn't trust him," I protested.

Elrond drew up his shoulders, took a deep breath and relaxed them again, a thoughtful look on his face. "To be truthful, neither do I. I assume Olórin still thinks him trustworthy enough, because he has not taken any serious action against him, nor have any of the Maiar."

I shot Elrond a sarcastic look.

"Present company excepted, of course," he clarified with another amused grin. "But to be fair, you do not behave like the other Maiar. I'm afraid I often forget you are one of them," he admitted.

"Hah," I said under my breath. It was true, I essentially lived like an Elf and by and large gave no outward sign of being especially different. But a thought hit me at that moment: was it morally acceptable to lead such a lifestyle when those powers could be of use? I frowned as I started to get shipwrecked on my own thoughts.

"Rhodri?" Elrond asked after a moment, snapping me back into the here and now. "What is it?"

"Maybe I should start acting a little more like them," I murmured quietly.

"The other Maiar? In what sense?" he probed.

"Exercising my power a little more. Perhaps in this space before the next meeting, I should do a couple of experiments."

Elrond took a seat. "Tell me more?" he requested, the intrigue in his voice plain as day.

"I don't remember anything of my time in Valinor," I said, half to myself, half to him. "Only that Tulkas and Irmo were both very dear to me, and they were both very fond of me back. It is possible that I received tutelage from them both in their respective fields, so exactly how far my potential powers stretch is something I'm not sure of."

"Fascinating," Elrond breathed as he softly drummed his fingers on his lips. "I wonder- could I possibly witness some of these?"

My semi-mysterious facade evaporated as I shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure, if you like. You might even be able to help me with some of them, if you're up for it."

He nodded. I nodded back. This was going to be interesting.


	45. How to read friends and surprise people

**Author's note:** My apologies for the delay. I had to do a fair bit of re-writing in this chapter, hence why it took so long. I'd also like to apologise for totally forgetting to put a **Psych Notes** bit after the chapter Growing Pains to talk about panic attacks. I'll put that at the end of that chapter when I get a moment. Hope you good folks are all doing well, and if you're not, that's all right, too! Surviving is enough. :) Thanks as always for your comments, and drink ya water!

Under the guise of a quick camping trip, Elrond slipped out with Glorfindel and me a few days later to start the experiments I had planned. We headed to Rhudaur, a region north of the Trollshaws that was known for having absolutely sod-all of note there. I asked that we get away somewhere as boring as that because I didn't want anyone getting wind of the flapdoodle we were about to get up to.

Where we had chosen to set up was a lovely little spot. It was situated on a small lake, the land flat for almost as far as the eye could see. The only things around us were a few clusters of trees and a handful of stones and boulders, ranging from the size of a garden decoration to as big as a house. It was the perfect playground for tests of strength.

"Now," I pondered aloud after we had set up our tent. "Should we go for a swim, or do we start experimenting?" I eyed the water longingly as it glittered invitingly in the afternoon sun.

"Experimenting," Elrond and Glorfindel firmly said in chorus. Glorfindel and I looked at Elrond in surprise. It wasn't often that he got this keen for something.

"The Great Oz has spoken," I declared, and with that, they followed me as I walked over to a collection of rocks of various sizes.

I stood there quietly for a moment, wondering where to start and how to go about doing this. Glorfindel, in the meantime, took off his outer robe and went to a solid-looking hunk of granite a little larger than a microwave.

"Ah, a control group," I said. "Excellent idea."

We watched on as he bent down, clutched it, and with some strain, he picked it up, lifted it above his head, walked around in a circle with it, and put it back on the ground. The rock would have been some 350 kilograms, about 100 kilograms more than the world's strongest man had been recorded to lift, so even getting it off the ground was extremely impressive.

"Damn!" I said, giving him The Nod. Glorfindel beamed and strolled back over to us.

"Your turn, Elrond," he said, his cheeks pleasantly rosy.

"Oh, I'm not here to test my own strength," Elrond said, waving a hand quickly. "I wanted to watch Rhodri throw large things around."

"Are you _sure _you don't want to try?" Glorfindel pressed, clearly interested in seeing Elrond's limits.

"Am I to interpret that as a request?" Elrond asked, to which Glorfindel nodded fervently.

"Very well, let me see…" he strode over to the same rock and picked it up with a similar amount of difficulty as his predecessor. Not to be outdone, he threw it a little as he let go, letting out a grunt as he did.

"Hey, hey, watch it!" I said with a laugh. "You'll make a chasm in the earth if you keep that sort of thing up."

With a breathless chuckle, Elrond made a gesture inviting me to pick up the rock myself. I loped over and, remembering my workplace health and safety rules of lifting, bent at the knees, making my rear end stick out like I was trying to moon someone. A giggle came from Elrond, and Glorfindel was suspiciously silent, but I was not to be swayed.

"If you knew the first thing about looking after your back, you'd be doing the same thing, Mr. Peredhel," I barked at Elrond. I clasped my hands on the sides of this rock and braced myself, preparing for a little strain myself.

That was a foolish thing to do, though, because in bracing myself I had spring-loaded my muscles, and the moment I exerted force in lifting the stone, it flew up and clocked me under the jaw with a noisy thud. Suddenly in pain, I panicked and let go of the rock, after which it landed on my foot. A loud stream of incoherent profanities came out of me as Elrond (fully aware of my hardiness and self-healing capabilities), now howled with laughter. Glorfindel at least had the grace to gasp a little and ask if I was all right.

"A bit sore, but otherwise fine, thanks," I said off-handedly. I tilted the stone and shifted my totalled foot out from underneath it, straining a moment as I felt the bones piece back together. Turning back to my travelling companions, I gave a withering look before rolling my eyes and bending down again. This time, I was much more careful about not bracing myself, and in a second, I had the stone sitting in one hand, tossing and catching it casually like it was a deck of cards. I put the rock down carefully where I'd found it and went back to Glorfindel and Elrond, who were exchanging wide-eyed glances.

"Well, that was useless," I said, dissatisfied. "Let's take it up a few notches, shall we? How about that really big one? In for a penny, in for a pound, after all…"

I strolled over to the house-sized boulder, which sat by the cluster of trees where we had pitched our tent.

"Hey," I shouted, "How about I put this over by the lake there and we can dive off it into the water?"

"Do it! Do it!" Glorfindel yelled excitedly. Elrond nodded fervently.

I looked up at the rock. It was a huge, broad monolith of a thing, craggy, with a wide base. The perfect diving platform, in other words, and more than a suitable challenge. At a guess, it would have weighed about 300 tons, which was a positively ridiculous jump in difficulty. Still, I was determined to give it a try.

I bent down, still looking ridiculous as I positioned myself safely, but this time I didn't hear any cackling from Elrond. With a loud grunt, I went as hard as I could and heaved the rock over my head. I slowly walked it toward the water and, straining all the while, lowered it gently onto the ground. Panting a little, I went over to where my thunderstruck companions stood and said, "Well, I think that's about my limit, to be honest with you. Want to go swimming?"

Glorfindel and Elrond's mouths were moving, but no sound emerged.

"I'll take that as a yes," I said with a laugh and jogged over to the tent to get my swimsuit on, my body as refreshed as if I hadn't just hauled something the size of a house around.

Eventually, I was joined in the water, where we splashed and dove like a trio of fools until well into the evening. I was floating on my back and admiring the stars when Glorfindel said, "What about testing what you got from Irmo?"

I absent-mindedly swirled my hand around in the water, making a small whirlpool. "I'm honestly not sure how to do that in a way that is considered ethical that will actually reveal what I'm able to do."

"Oh?" Elrond asked.

"What's the problem?" Glorfindel added.

"You already know my principle that I don't enter the minds of others," I said as I bounced nervously on my toes. "I don't want to get into that sort of invasion of privacy with anyone, but I can't exactly perform the experiment on myself."

"You're more than welcome to read my thoughts," Glorfindel said with a smile. "Delve as deep as you like."

"I'm not sure how accurate of an answer that would give us, seeing as we're bound," I returned pensively. "But we can give it a try, I suppose. Think of something and try your best to stop me from accessing it."

I grimaced and shook my head; I hated, hated, hated the idea of doing this. A hand touched my arm. I looked up and saw Glorfindel looking at me with a gentle smile.

"It's all right, I promise," he said, nodding reassuringly. "Go ahead."

I took a deep breath, let it out, and steeled myself before I glanced at his forehead. In my mind's eye, I penetrated through his head and ended up in something like a huge, opulent lobby, well-lit and filled with a soft humming sound. Ghostly, formless vignettes calmly milled around, with nothing to do and nowhere to be. At a guess, they were Glorfindel's memories, because in the split second I looked at them, scenes were playing out on them, like films being projected onto small smoke screens. The serenity was occasionally disturbed as other spectres zoomed around quickly, mutating from shape to shape- letters became animals, which turned into people, numbers, objects. I decided they must have been thoughts, ricocheting off the walls and, occasionally, the memories in their zippy excitement.

_So this is what the inside of a mind is like, _I mused to myself in surprise.

Something shot across the room and into a transparent chest, which slammed shut and locked itself with a loud click. I realised that this was the thing I was meant to dig out, but I couldn't help feeling confused. What was the point of locking it, of even putting anything in the chest in the first place if said chest couldn't even initially keep it secret? I could see that it was a memory. I looked at the lock, and it broke. The lid to the chest flew open and in that moment, I knew the memory was mine.

As if transferred by wi-fi straight to me, I could see the memory play out as though it were unfolding in my own head, even though it was floating around the forum that was the interior of Glorfindel's mind. It was the day we sunbaked on that huge black rock en route to the Grey Havens and I unknowingly serenaded Glorfindel. From what I could tell, I was Glorfindel, seeing all from his perspective.

A gentle warmth spread to Glorfindel's--and, by extension, my fingertips as he lay there, watching myself obliviously playing the guitar and warbling away like the blithely unaware fool that I was. Memory Rhodri turned around when she stopped singing and looked at him, her cheeks suddenly reddening. She made a rather obvious attempt to save face by saying, "A penny for your thoughts, my sunsh-" before stopping mid-sentence, now completely scarlet.

I sensed a wild fluttering in Glorfindel's stomach. His face grew warm as he sat up now, a smile stretching from ear to ear. Foolish Rhodri went to slide off the rock, and I could feel Glorfindel's mouth go dry upon realising his window of opportunity had presented itself. His heart was at risk of absconding via his throat now as he threw caution to the wind and said, "I don't know if this helps, Rhodri, but I was so thrilled the day you told me you weren't interested in Gil-Galad."

With that, the memory came to an end, and I quickly left the inside of his head. I had to take a second to readjust myself to my surroundings, finding myself rather discombobulated.

"So, Rhodri," Glorfindel said after I shook my head a little. "How did it go?"

"It was odd," I answered slowly. "Whatever you did to try and conceal it didn't work. It was contained in a transparent box, and I was able to break into it effortlessly."

"Are you certain you found the correct thing?" checked Elrond.

"Were you attempting to hide the memory of me playing the guitar on the black rock as we journeyed to the Grey Havens?" I asked Glorfindel, carefully avoiding any mention of romantic overtones.

He nodded. "The very same," he replied with a warm smile.

"Could you feel me penetrate your mind?" I enquired curiously.

Glorfindel cocked his head to the side as he considered my question. "A little, but not much," he said after a moment.

"Hmm," I flicked the surface of the water absent-mindedly. "I'll need to find someone my fëa isn't tethered to and try getting into their head as well, just to be certain this isn't because we're married," I mused. "I might try and see if Bregedúr will let me have a go the next time she's visiting."

"Or," suggested Elrond, "you could try on me, if you like."

I looked at Elrond in surprise. I wouldn't have dreamed of asking him. If he wasn't willing to try therapy, I figured that was a pretty reliable indicator that he in no way wanted me getting a look-in at his mind.

"Are you sure about this?" I said cautiously. "I'm happy to try on someone else when we get back to Imladris."

"Quite, yes," he replied with a small smile. "I would ask that you do not avail yourself of anything of a nature you would not be willing to make accessible to me yourself, though."

"A more than fair deal, I think," I concurred with a nod.

"In which case, please go ahead," he said with an inviting gesture toward his brain.

If I had felt uneasy about penetrating Glorfindel's mind, it was nothing compared to what I was feeling as I went to do the same to Elrond. I would have rather had my teeth pulled sans anaesthesia. Not wanting to drag this out, I took a deep breath and in a flash, I was inside Elrond's head, which looked remarkably like the library in Imladris. Memories and thoughts moved slower in here, but at the same time, they were still more chaotic. Thoughts bumped into memories far more often, and I got the impression it was painful, because both parties were sent reeling before they eventually drew to a halt. Nothing seemed to be hidden from me. Worried, I kept my eyes to the ground, afraid to look up in case I was indeed able to access anything without trying.

"_Where is it, Elrond?" _I felt myself ask. Something guided my vision to a box a few metres away. Another see-through chest, it seemed, containing another memory. As soon as I looked at it, the chest burst open, and I received the memory: Elrond was sitting on his balcony, one leg crossed over the other, wearing those magnificent purple overalls. I could feel him fighting to keep a straight face as Celebrían, Glorfindel, Bregedúr and I all burst through the door, covered in dirt and wearing our own overalls.

"Who wants wine?" he asked, the rapidly emerging smile threatening to take over his entire face now as he watched all of us stare at him in disbelief. And then, suddenly, I felt a joyful laugh escape him as we onlookers collectively lost our shit, wildly cheering and slapping him on the back. His elation filled me as he beamed, savouring the moment so intensely that he practically glowed.

A fraction of a second later, the memory ended, and I saw myself out of there as quickly as possible, keen not to linger.

"So, Rhodri," I heard Elrond say as he and Glorfindel came back into view, "how was that?"

"The same as with Glorfindel, assuming you were trying to obscure the memory of when we saw you in your overalls for the first time." I watched his face, awaiting his answer.

Elrond smiled and nodded. "Indeed," he said. "I also could barely feel your presence in my head."

I hummed contemplatively. "That's very interesting," I said under my breath.

A shudder passed over me. "I hated that," I murmured. "With any luck, I'll never need to use it."

"It could be very advantageous in finding out once and for all what is in Curumo's mind, though," suggested Glorfindel as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Elrond nodded in agreement.

"Mmm, that's part of the reason I wanted to test it out before the next White Council, actually," I confirmed.

"And the rest of the reason?" Elrond asked.

"Guilt and curiosity," I replied with a grin and a shrug. "Seems kind of immoral to not exercise powers for good right now, and even more so to not even bother finding out what power one has at one's disposal in the first place."

Elrond and Glorfindel shrugged and nodded, my response apparently legit.

We emerged from the water shortly after, keen to warm up by the fire before bed, and when the flames had died down to glowing embers, Elrond retired to the tent.

"Are you feeling brave enough to access a memory or two more?" Glorfindel asked me, the gentle incandescence of the fading fire lighting up half his smile. "I think you might find them amusing."

I shifted uneasily. "I'd rather not have to search for them," I replied.

"No need for that," he said with a small laugh. "They're immediately available."

After a moment, I gingerly nodded.

"You'll like it, I promise," Glorfindel assured me, and as we locked eyes, I was in the memory straight away.

Glorfindel appeared to be sitting on Elrond's balcony with him, the sun still high in the sky. It must have been morning or midday in the summer, judging by the dense, green foliage on the trees the balcony looked out over. Elrond had been staring out at a small spider web on the balustrade for far longer than was needed to glean any useful information about it.

"You seem preoccupied, mellon-nîn," Glorfindel said affably, watching him with interest.

"Mmm…" Elrond replied. "I would like your thoughts on something I've had on my mind, Glorfindel. It has been nagging at me for weeks now."

"Tell me about it?" Glorfindel offered.

Elrond nodded. "But we must keep it between us for now," he said quickly. "Not a word to anyone of this, yes?"

"Of course," Glorfindel promised, his curiosity building up in me now.

Elrond glanced around furtively and then leaned a little toward Glorfindel, as though worried the birds might overhear.

I felt a laugh come up in Glorfindel's throat as he observed Elrond's almost comical attempt at secrecy. He leaned in as well for effect.

"It's about Gil-Galad and Rhodri," he whispered.

Glorfindel wrinkled his brow in confusion as he tried to ignore the lurch his stomach made. "What about them?"

"Have you not noticed anything unusual between the two of them of late?" Elrond said, looking taken aback.

"Well, they have been spending time together now and then," said Glorfindel with a shrug that belied a feeling of growing unease.

"They have been spending every spare minute together these last few months, Glorfindel," Elrond said pointedly, raising his eyebrows at him now. "They must be courting, and judging by the way they are so close through the day, I would hazard a guess that they are very intent on each other."

I felt Glorfindel's heart sink. He sat quietly, racking his brains for recent outward signs that Gil-Galad and I were keen for each other, but nothing seemed to come to mind. Blindsided and crestfallen, he let out a soft sigh.

"I see," he said quietly, attempting to sound pensive as he gazed out at the trees.

"They would make a very interesting pair, I think," Elrond continued, none the wiser to his friend's distress. "Gil-Galad could use some humour in his life, I think, though it would be a terrible shame to lose Rhodri if they were to marry. I shall try to broach it to her today over Happy Hour, I think." Elrond nodded at his own decision.

"Mmm," Glorfindel said noncommittally, not taking his eyes off the view as he tried to block out what Elrond was saying.

Elrond grew a little impatient as the silence that followed stretched out, and eventually said, "Well, Glorfindel? What do you have to say about all this? Glorfindel?" He waved a little to get his companion's attention.

Reluctantly, Glorfindel tore his eyes from the scenery and faced Elrond.

"If it is the case," Glorfindel murmured, "I hope he is good to her."

Elrond frowned. "Is everything all right? You are acting very out of-" his own sentence died mid-way as a look of realisation softened his face. "Glorfindel, do you- are you-" he skipped over the verb, "with _Rhodri?"_ He watched him carefully, scrutinising his face for any sign of an answer.

I felt Glorfindel's stomach lurch again before he looked back out at the view, giving a sad nod and saying nothing more.

"Oh, Glorfindel," Elrond said gently as he got up and moved his chair right beside him. He put an arm around Glorfindel's shoulder and gave him a small squeeze. "I had no idea. I am sorry."

Glorfindel shrugged a little with his free shoulder. "The heart wants what it wants," he said simply. "Her happiness is what counts here, and I will always treasure our friendship." He forced a smile as I felt a heaviness begin to grow in his chest.

Elrond peered at his friend with concern, presumably racking his brains for comforting words and finding none.

Glorfindel stood up slowly, the chair scraping a little as he rose. "I think I need a walk," he announced.

"Would you like company?" Elrond offered cautiously.

Glorfindel shook his head with a soft smile. "No, but thank you, Elrond. I'll see you this evening." With that, he headed out, leaving a slightly flustered Elrond sitting alone.

The memory stopped there, and I had absolutely no idea what to do. I wanted to squeeze Glorfindel to me as tightly as I could and make all sorts of huge and grand declarations of my undying adoration to him. Before I could break the contact, though, another memory came up.

The weighty feeling in my chest returned as Glorfindel gently strolled through the corridor to the dining hall. It was dark outside, and I presumed Glorfindel had returned from that walk. He saw Elrond and me coming from the other direction, Elrond looking thoroughly amused as he walked beside a worried-looking Rhodri. Glorfindel's heart skipped a beat as he slowly came

over to us, a small smile reflexively turning up his face.

Elrond smiled at me, then looked over at Glorfindel with a twinkle in his eye and laughed, saying, "I believe congratulations are in order."

"Oh my god, Elrond, no they are not," I said quickly, almost snapping my neck from the force as I turned to look at Glorfindel. I seemed clearly under the impression Elrond was winding me up.

Still chortling to himself, Elrond disappeared into the dining hall.

"Is everything all right?" Glorfindel asked, the heaviness in his chest replaced with a churning stomach now.

"Magnificent, thank you," I replied. "You have been misinformed."

I felt his entire torso threaten to depart from the rest of him as an almost-frantic me started explaining.

"You may have been told there is something going on between Gil-Galad and me in a romantic sense. If this is the case, let me assure you any such statements are _grossly_ inaccurate," I said emphatically, gesticulating forcefully with every second word. "There is nothing, nor has there _ever _been anything of that nature between us. And it's not going to happen in the future, either, I'll tell you that now."

I perceived an effervescent mixture of happiness and relief that built up rapidly and came out of Glorfindel as an uncontrollable laugh, loud and sparkling.

"So no wedding for you and Gil-Galad, is that right?" he asked as he attempted to wrangle his mirth into submission.

"That's absolutely right. No wedding whatsoever," a resolute me replied, shaking my head hard. "Better as a friend, for sure."

The cheery mood emboldened Glorfindel enough to probe a little further, and he said, "None whatsoever? You don't want to marry at all?"

He watched me carefully as I said, "Oh, someday I wouldn't mind." I added as a quick after thought, "Just not to Gil-Galad," and laughed.

I noticed another thrill of hopeful excitement pass through Glorfindel that took some stamina to suppress, but he managed to keep it under wraps as he smiled and nodded.

"Perfectly fair," Glorfindel acknowledged. "Shall we go and eat our bodyweight in food, then?"

With a smile and a thumbs-up from me, we walked into the dining hall together, both of us with a much more lively, cheerful gait now.

As everything went dark, I snapped back into my own perspective and looked at my spouse in total incredulity.

"That congratulations was for _you!_" I gasped, laughing wildly as Glorfindel watched me with a blushing grin.

"It would seem so, yes," he replied, quite decently aglow now.

"All these years, I thought Elrond was just being a shit-stirrer," I said, shaking my head. "Well, he _is _a shit-stirrer, but he's absolved himself on that occasion, at least," I conceded to myself after a moment.

I looked up at Glorfindel quickly. "Let me make it _manifestly _clear," I said to him, putting both hands on his shoulders, "That I am beyond ecstatic to be yours. Cannot overstate it." I crawled into his lap and grabbed him tightly. "Thank you so much for taking pity on my obliviousness and dropping extremely obvious hints."

Glorfindel snorted as he snuggled me into him. "Be assured that I'm equally as delighted to be yours," he murmured with a giggle. "And even more delighted, perhaps, that you're actually aware of that." He burst out laughing at his own joke, and cackled even harder as I groaned.


	46. Many yeetings

**Author's note: **I'm not even sorry this chapter is so long. I had such a wild time writing it :P No regrets! Hope you good folk are having a good or at least bearable day! DRINK FLUIDS! YOU ARE GREAT!

Rosenthorne: I'm so sad about Aragorn and Arwen, honestly. I wish he'd just hooked up with Éowyn and called it a day. It's all beer and skittles until the mortal pops their clogs. And Rhodri... yeah, she is rather powerful. Though I think if she had her 'druthers, she'd either not have them at all, or use them strictly for fun, like moving rocks for diving platforms :D

Guest: Oh, don't worry about that. Rhodri is very, very used to making an absolute tit of herself in front of Glorfindel. And everyone else. Honestly, the girl has no shame whatsoever at this stage. :P

FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff: ugh, their love makes me sick at times. Some people, honestly. Also, I thought of you as I put the HP reference in there :D

§

The weeks passed and the summer was behaving like that one guest at every party. You know the one, they say they'll be going now, but do they go now? Do they hell. They get you up out of your seat as they make their way to the door, take an age to put their shoes and coat on, and then they proceed to make you stand at the entry with the door open, letting all the heat out while talk at you for several more hours. The bastards never go. You offer them a bed for the night, and they insist that they will be leaving. They never do. It's like a bloody gothic novel.

Naturally, whatever the weather was had no bearing on me physically, and it hardly mattered for the Elves, either. We were happy to swim and frolic about in any season. All I really wanted was a straight answer: was summer off home now, or was it going to hang around?

The response I wanted didn't really eventuate, and I sat in my office on one of these dithering days, sulking about it for far longer than befitted someone of my age. Thankfully, I was sent a distraction by means of a knock at the door.

I looked up. "Oh, hello there, Estel- ah, sorry, Aragorn, darling. Don't worry, I'll remember automatically soon enough." I shook my head at my forgetfulness.

Aragorn smiled gently. "Don't worry, Auntie," he said with his usual good humour. "Are you busy?"

"Ha!" I said, perhaps a little louder than was needed to make my point. "Come on in, kiddo. Fancy a game of checkers?"

"Don't you ever tire of losing?" he asked with a laugh as he stepped inside and sat down.

"Nah," I said in an unconcerned tone. "The competition is the least important aspect of the game for me." I paused a moment, adding, "That's probably for the best, really, given my current win statistics," as an afterthought. "Let's make it a bit more interesting and have a rule that you can't move pieces by picking them up between your fingers."

Aragorn snorted but he nodded, chose the red counters (as always), and the game began.

"So is this a social call," I asked, "or have you hunted me out for other purposes? Both are equally welcomed and relished, of course."

"Both, I think," he answered as he nudged one piece forward with the tip of his finger.

"Had any more of those panic attacks?"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, making his hair swish as he did.

"Good to hear. Just thought I'd check," I explained, giving him the thumbs up. "So what's shakin'?" I gently flicked a piece forward.

"You use such odd expressions, Auntie," Aragorn said with a chuckle as he took a pencil off my desk and poked at the piece he wanted to move.

"What are the kids saying these days, then?" I asked. "I'm not a regular aunt, I'm a cool aunt. Gotta stay abreast with the youth of today."

He failed to suppress a smile as he rolled his eyes. "You can just ask me what I'm here for."

I rolled my eyes right back at him. "Fiiiine," I said dramatically, taking the pencil out of his hand. "What are you here for, then?"

"To say goodbye," he admitted.

I didn't look up, laying the pencil over my hand like it was a pool cue. "Goodbye? Why, are you off on a trip for a while?" I knocked one checker into another, sending the piece I wanted moving over a space.

"Ooh, let me try that," Aragorn said with interest, taking the pencil back and lining up his shot. "But yes, I suppose it is a trip of sorts."

"Don't hit it too forcefully, just one short, sharp strike," I advised. "Where are you off to?"

"I'm not sure."

"But definitely away from here?"

"Mmm," he replied as he made a small jab and knocked the desired piece over two squares.

"I see! So how long do you think you'll be gone, then?"

"Quite some time, I envision," he answered, looking up at me now.

Feeling his eyes on me, I met his gaze. "Can you give me a rough estimate? As in weeks, months… years?"

"I predict it may be decades," he said quietly.

I frowned slightly. He didn't seem too thrilled to be leaving, especially for such an extended period. I was half wondering if there was something at play regarding his thing for Arwen.

"Are you doing this of your own free will?" I enquired, watching him closely.

"Oh, yes," he replied with a nod. "I haven't been exiled or anything like that."

"You don't appear to be eagerly anticipating this, kiddo, I have to say." I raised my eyebrows at him.

"A part of me hates to leave," he murmured sadly. "I love Arwen...dows. _Our_ windows. You know, the stained glass ones," Aragorn blinked quickly for a moment but seemed convinced that he'd managed to pull off his ridiculous verbal edit.

I gave him such a sceptical look that I made two new chins appear before I spoke.

"You know, Aragorn, the last time I misspoke like that, Uncle Glorfindel found out I was hugely and embarrassingly in love with him." I shrugged nonchalantly. "Now, I'm not saying that's the _only _instance in which such errors of speech arise, and far be it from me to harbour suspicions, but you _did _just mention a whole name there. Wanna talk about what's going on here?"

Aragorn leaned back in his chair and groaned. "I had been keeping it from people so well, and then suddenly it just flew out in a moment of weakness."

I leaned forward and blew one of my pieces forward. "I mean, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Aragorn looked relieved at that, and I immediately understood the topic to be off-limits unless he brought it up himself. "Why are you leaving, then, if you don't even know where you're going?"

"Oh, well, that bit's not so difficult," he answered as he angled his elbow and awkwardly used it to bump a piece forward. "I can't tell you where I want to go because I will seek the last of my people, living in the wild. But I don't know where they are right now, you see?"

"Ah, that's quite the conundrum," I acknowledged with a nod. "A solid plan, though. You'll pick up a lot from them, I think."

"That is certainly the plan," he said, looking a little more hopeful now.

"So this is, what, phase one of your self-discovery plan, then, is it?"

"In essence, yes," he confirmed.

"Wow, that happened fast," I murmured to myself, a little dazed. "Could only have been a week or so ago that you were giggling and hiding as your mother tried to make you go to bed. Oh, wait… it _was _a week ago." Aragorn scowled and looked away.

"Ah well, you'll set your own bedtime from now on. You'll soon learn what works for you," I said with a cackle. "Well, kiddo, we'll miss you terribly while you're gone, but you'll pop by for a visit every handful of decades or so, won't you?"

He confirmed that he definitely would. I smiled.

"And hey, look, you know if something goes wrong, you can always come back and nobody will judge you. We're always here for you, and we'd love to help however we can." I got up and moved one of my checkers with my nose.

"Thanks, Auntie Rhodri," he said quietly as his eyes darted around on the checkers board. Without saying a word, he picked up two pencils and made a pincer with them, picking up one of his pieces and, I shit you not, jumped all of mine, winning instantly.

"Keep practicing while I'm away," this bold little whippersnapper said to me with a smile as my jaw dropped.

"For the love of god."

§

Aragorn left an hour later, and not long after that, Glorfindel and I found ourselves on Elrond's balcony, wine in hand and sunset at the ready.

"How are you doing with your little fledgling heading out into the world?" I asked Elrond gently, his pensive face overly absorbed in the sunset.

"It's a rather trying time, to be honest," Elrond admitted as he absent-mindedly swirled his wine.

"He'll be back soon enough," Glorfindel said, giving him an affectionate pat on the back.

"Too soon, perhaps," he murmured somberly, brows knitted as he kept his gaze fixed on the distance.

Glorfindel and I looked at each other in surprise, and then at him.

"My goodness, Elrond, what do you mean by that?" Glorfindel exclaimed as he sat up in his chair to watch him closely.

Elrond sighed and shook his head, his expression pained, guilty, and unmistakably resentful. "I didn't mean it, really," he said defeatedly. "Not like that."

He looked over at Glorfindel and me, who were fixing him with enquiring stares.

"He is in love with Arwen," he said, frowning deeply now.

Normally, Glorfindel was the type who delighted in folks falling head over heels with each other, but on this occasion, his lack of immediate cooing and gushing were very conspicuous.

"Oh, dear," he said quietly, worriedly putting a hand over his mouth.

"Does Arwen return his affections?" I asked in a rather grave tone.

"Not presently," Elrond answered. "But I am not keen to take any risks. I am thinking of sending her back to her mother's family in Lothlórien so that there are no more chance encounters here."

Glorfindel and I both nodded. Arwen liked it well enough there, and Galadriel kept pretty strict borders, so maybe he wouldn't be allowed in.

"Solid plan, mate," I said, giving him the thumbs-up. "How did you learn about this, anyway?"

"I could see it in his eyes," Elrond returned, his voice flinty. "That glimmer whenever he looks at her. It's been going on for weeks. I pulled him aside and spoke to him about it yesterday, and he confirmed my suspicions." He rubbed his face slowly, kneading his temples with his fingertips. "He has no idea what he asks of me."

"He is full young to understand yet, but I imagine you would have helped him along somewhat after he told you this," Glorfindel chimed in.

"I tried," he said, roughly massaging his head with his thumbs now. "I hope I made him feel sufficiently guilty at the prospect of separating us that he is dissuaded from hoping for her now."

The pensive silence that followed did the talking for the rest of Happy Hour as I sipped away on my wine, feeling my stomach churn ever so slightly.

"I felt a little hypocritical with Elrond this afternoon," Glorfindel said to me as we put our pyjamas on that evening.

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"Well, I thought you were mortal when I met you, and I was under that impression for almost a year and a half until we realised you were a Maia," he explained.

I had completely forgotten about that, and slowly looked up at him in shock.

"You're not telling me you would have done what Lúthien did, are you?" I breathed, horrified at the prospect of him cutting his life short.

"Well, I am not Half-Elven, so I cannot do exactly what she would have. Had you outwardly reciprocated my love even a tiny amount back then, though, I am quite certain that when you did eventually die, I would have died of grief shortly after, whether we married or not." He let out a sigh as he pulled his nightshirt on. "How Aegnor managed to resist Andreth is beyond me, because I certainly would not have been able to do the same with you."

"If the tables were turned, I'm sure I wouldn't have, myself," I admittedly quietly as I hitched up my pyjama pants.

I was more relieved at that point than ever that I was a Maia, and resolved never again to carp about the moral discomfort of reading thoughts. Talk about first world problems, gee.

"I can understand the position Aragorn finds himself in somewhat, and I do not envy him in the slightest," Glorfindel continued. "But the temptation is huge. Like I said before, the heart wants what it wants."

"It's quite cruel that we don't get a say in who we fall for," I murmured sadly. "With that said, though," I added as I looked at Glorfindel with a broad smile, "sometimes you really luck out."

He beamed at me, scooped me up and walked over to the bed. "I couldn't agree more," he said, eyes sparkling as he set me down, and with that, we proceeded to undo all the work we had put into getting our night attire on.

The White Council meeting came around much quicker than I had anticipated. Time flies when you're having a good time, they say. I hadn't been doing anything special at the time except, perhaps, indulging the occasional, delicious fantasy that I delivered a swift kick to Curumo's arse at the meeting, an action met with a standing ovation from the others present. Absolutely scrummy sort of thing to dream of, but as the name implied, it remained the stuff of dreams and birthday wishes.

As it happened, though, I couldn't help but notice that this meeting was scheduled to fall on my 4,728th birthday.

"What an amazing coincidence," I murmured to myself as I looked at the calendar, perceiving a curious flutter of superstitious hope as I imagined the grunt that would come out of Curumo as I booted him across the room like a football.

Birthdays were a right royal affair among the Elves, especially the ones in Imladris, who were always on the lookout for an excuse to push the boat out. They'd have celebrated the opening of a jam jar if they could get away with it.

Oddly enough, though, I was technically the only resident whose birthday was observed. The Elves, in their mysterious wisdom, decided the observation of one's day of conception to be more sensible, which baffled me. I, for one, had absolutely _no _desire to wolf down a piece of cake commemorating the day Ernest and Grace Fanshawe got their rocks off. Happily, I didn't need to, because I never heard what day that had occurred. The Elves had it a bit easier in that regard, though, because pregnancy lasted exactly one year. In either case, I enjoyed celebrating it because it always entailed a surfeit of cake and attention.

This year was no different, the day starting with Glorfindel waking me up singing the birthday song in English (not Westron, actual English). I ended up paying more attention to his accent, which was a fascinating blend of Welsh as he softened the consonants and something Scandinavian in the vowels.

"Captivating, my love," I said to him when he had finished, applauding gently. "You sound even better this year than you did last year."

"I've been practicing," he said, giggling happily at the praise. "Come, let's go outside so you can have your present."

"Present?" I asked in surprise. Gift giving was rare after the first hundred years, because can you _imagine _how much stuff people of 4, 5, 6 thousand years of age would accumulate with a gift every birthday?

"Indeed," he replied with a grin as he bounced out of bed.

I hopped up and we threw some clothes on and headed out to the dining hall where Elrond and Olórin were waiting for us.

"Congratulations on the anniversary of your mother's greatest physically unpleasant day to date," said Elrond jovially, clapping me on the shoulder as he bit back a giggle. He and I had always disagreed about observing conception day vs. birthday, and as our friendship matured over the long years, the teasing had become progressively more merciless.

"Thanks, friendo," I said with a smirk. "Hard to believe your own anniversary of your parents' most physically gratifying day to date is just around the corner."

Glorfindel snorted for a moment until he appeared to realise his own ageing-up was celebrated for the same reason, after which he shuddered a little.

"We hope you'll like your present," Olórin said, evidently hoping to bring some decorum back to the table. He handed me a plate with slices of fresh bread on it.

"Oh, I _love _it!" I enthused as I took the plate and availed myself of a few pieces. "Absolute corker of a gift, you three, thank you so-"

"Rhodri, you eat this bread for breakfast every morning," Glorfindel reminded me as he raised his eyebrows.

I paused. "This is true," I conceded. "Well, it's still very nice," I added as I took a bite and relished the feel of the warm, doughy mass between my teeth.

The meeting was scheduled to start shortly after breakfast, so I ended up taking my bread with me, so impatient were my tablemates to show me my birthday present.

They took me outside, where Glorfindel placed one hand over my eyes and guided me along the corridors with the other. We seemed to be walking forever, but I was finally stopped, upon which he moved his hands away.

"_Magnificent!" _I gasped as I opened my eyes and looked ahead. My office entryway and door had been decorated! A young climber vine had been trained over the door jamb, and my cherrywood door had had the design of a psi carved into the panel. The psi, symbol of psychology and psychiatry, had been stylised into the trunk of a tree with hundreds of leaves blossoming out of it. It was gorgeous.

"That's absolutely fantastic," I breathed. "Thank you so much!"

"I'm so pleased you like it," said Glorfindel, smiling radiantly with the other two.

"That's the understatement of the year," I returned, wide-eyed. I turned to face the three of them.

"Do we really need to attend this meeting? How about we cancel it and just have a picnic in front of the door?"

"Ah, if only eschewing our duty were so simple," said Elrond wistfully.

"And without consequence," chimed in Olórin with a chortle.

Collectively shrugging as we accepted our fate, we made for the meeting room, where just about everyone seemed to be already seated- everyone, that is, except for Curumo. I pulled up a chair beside Glorfindel and Olórin, feeling all eyes on me as I sat down. Evidently, the Council members not present at Dol Guldur got wind of the little altercation that had happened there. I gave them all a polite smile and waited for the man of the hour to slink in.

An ease eventually settled over the room that was scattered to the four winds like loose birdseed when Curumo entered with his usual "ah, yes, you peasants again" face and sat down beside Aiwendil. For a brief moment, he looked at me, and I almost (_almost) _gave into the temptation to blow him a kiss, just to shake him up, but I didn't want anyone getting the impression I was an unfaithful spouse or was trying to get into Curumo's pants (shudder). I compromised and gave him a warm smile instead, which he didn't appreciate one bit, wrinkling his nose a little and taking his gaze elsewhere.

"_Rhodri…" _came a warning voice in my head. I looked to my left and saw Elrond giving me the side-eye.

I gently rolled my eyes. "_Fine…" _I replied reluctantly and looked straight ahead again.

"And what is it we're here for this time?" Curumo enquired of us. "I hope it isn't another trifling matter where you see fit to air your grievances over nothing at all."

"We're here to celebrate my birthday," I replied with a grin and then looked at him seriously. "You're not going to tell me you arrived without a gift, are you?"

Olorin, tutting at me, swatted my shoulder lightly and stood up, ready to assume his usual position of chief informer.

"Our "grievances" as you call them, Curumo, have been perfectly justified in the past, and we are now in the unhappy position of being compromised for having not taken action earlier."

"Oh?" Curumo answered in a condescending tone. "Please, go ahead and enlighten us as to what the gross offences of Sauron have been this time."

"My concern is not what he has done, but what he is doing now, and what will come of it later," Olorin replied harshly, his patience already waning. "The Nine continue to comb the land for a sign of the One Ring, but their search narrows by the day. I fear that they- and their master- know something more of the Ring's location that we do not."

The Council members looked distinctly unsettled, sharing nervous glances and murmuring among themselves until Curumo, now standing himself, raised a hand and asked for quiet.

"Olorin," he said with obviously forced patience, "I am here to tell you that you are mistaken. The Ring is nowhere to be found in Middle-Earth now."

As those words escaped his mouth, and he proceeded to launch into a litany of "why you're wrong and I'm right," I knew my opportunity to take a peek in his head had come at last. Pretending to gaze out the window behind him, I zipped into his head, quick as a snake.

Inside Curumo's mind wasn't nearly as pleasant as Elrond and Glorfindel's had been. It had the sort of atmosphere that Harry Potter film set designers would have jumped on for the Slytherin Common Room. It was dim and cold, and the memories and thoughts rolled by, travelling in straight lines like steam trains, looking more ghostly and sinister than I'd seen.

I scanned the passing memories and thoughts quickly, knowing I had very little time to find something that might be of any use to me. Somewhere close by the back was a rather elusive little wisp of a thought, caught in one spot, rapidly transforming.

I peered closer at it and saw the shapes it took were to do with the sea the Ring was meant to have been washed into, but occasionally it seemed to glitch and take the shape of the area where the Nazgul were meant to be hunting, the Ring plainly in sight in the grass. I frowned. Was this his train of thought, perhaps? Was he trying to allay our suspicions with proposals of sunken treasure?

While I watched it even more intently, the thought glitched again, only this time, it took the form of Curumo holding the Ring like it was a winning lottery ticket. My eyes widened. That was precisely what I was looking for, but I was still displeased that I had found it. This meant a lot more trouble for us. Deciding I'd seen enough, I skedaddled out of there as quickly as I could.

When I tumbled back into my own head, I was unable to completely hide my momentary disorientation as I gave my head a quick shake and frowned slightly. Curumo stopped waffling a moment, looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem, Rhodri?" he asked in a voice that indicated he gave absolutely no figs if I had an issue or not. Reflexively, I locked my mind and softened my expression.

Thinking quickly, I said, "Sorry about that. I just realised I've been sitting on my bread all this time." As he went from coldness to bafflement, I leaned to the side and produced three crepe-thin slices of squashed bread, appearing as bitter and remorseful about it as I could manage.

Curumo, eyes slightly wide, gave me a look of deep suspicion before resuming his speech.

"In any case," he rambled on, "the Ring fell into the Anduin long ago, and now lies somewhere at the bottom of the sea, where it will remain until the world's ending. You waste your time hunting for it. You will never find it. Take comfort in the fact that Sauron will never find it either, and leave this _ridiculous_ topic once and for all!"

With a sweep of his cloak, he took his seat again. Olorin looked as frustrated as ever, and I glanced at him.

"_Play along with him and adjourn the meeting," _I whispered to him in my head. "_I've got some news for you, but I can't tell you while Curumo's here."_

Still frowning, Olorin sighed and nodded. "Very well," he said. "If you are absolutely certain he will not ever find it, then I suppose there is little point in continuing the meeting."

"Ah, the first sensible thing anyone here has said today," cried Curumo triumphantly, standing up again. "In which case, let us adjourn now so that we might pursue matters of actual importance!"

"Ooh, excellent, like my birthday!" I said excitedly, standing up. "Great! Time to swap out this bread for birthday cake." I patted my back pocket and made my way out to the corridor where I planned to feed the birds.

The air was beautiful and crisp outside, and I loved the feel of it on my face as I headed for a nearby open space. I whistled a short tune and a handful of feathery friends showed up.

"Hello, hello!" I said to them gaily. "Who's hungry?"

They cheeped at me loudly, and I nodded. "I see. Well, have at it!" I tore tiny pieces off the bread and started to throw them toward the ever-growing flock at my feet. I was having a good old time when a voice from behind startled me a little.

"You are hiding something from me."

"Curumo!" I said angrily as I jumped and turned around. "God, who _raised _you? Don't you know it's rude to startle people like that?" I pursed my lips and looked at him disapprovingly, one hand on my hip. Curumo, unmoved, stared at me with annoyed distrust.

"Do not trifle with me. Don't think I don't know what you did in there."

I feigned irritated confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Cease this ridiculousness," he snapped. "You think I did not notice you suddenly close your mind when I saw you shaking your head as I spoke?"

"You think I'm going to let some insufferable prick like you rootle around in _my _head when you haven't even got the decency to show up to my birthday with a _PRESENT?_" I replied snarkily, my voice getting louder by the minute. "Well let me tell you something. If you think for a minute that you're getting your hands on my secret ice cream recipe, you can _think again!" _The noise must have tipped the others off, because Glorfindel, Elrond, and Olorin were the first to emerge from the room and hurried over to us.

"Rhodri, Curumo, what is the meaning of all this noise?" Elrond asked authoritatively.

"This nosy bastard," I pointed at Curumo, whose eyes were wide with shock while his brow firmly remained in a frown, "tried to get into _my_ head during that meeting while I was thinking about how to perfect my ice cream recipe!"

Elrond and Glorfindel, god bless them, affected the most terrific taken aback expressions, looking over at Curumo.

"Is this true, Curumo?" Glorfindel asked seriously.

"What an absurd thing to assume, as though I have any interest in your cooking," Curumo spat furiously.

My mouth fell open and I put a hand to my chest, looking insulted beyond belief.

"Well, I _never!" _I shrieked in a tone of shock and offence. "_You_, sir, have the social graces of a chamber pot and I _will not have it!" _I stomped my foot defiantly.

"You came here on business as head of the White Council, but now that that's over, you're here as a guest." I barked at him. "If you're going to stand here insulting my cooking, you can go elsewhere!"  
"Rhodri-" Elrond began, eyes wide as he tried to put a hand on my shoulder

"No, Elrond, this man, this-this churlish _brute_ has insulted me too many times!" I snapped, brushing his hand off with a sweeping motion as I turned back to face Curumo, whose astonishment was starting to outweigh his anger now.

"I was going to let you stay for the party tonight despite your lack of a gift, but if this is how you are going to conduct yourself, consider your invitation officially _revoked!_" I said the last word with flourish and threw up one hand dramatically. Without another word, I turned around and flounced off, leaving a crowd of bewildered Elves, Maiar, birds, and other various onlookers in my wake.


	47. Oh, baby!

**Author's note:** Man I shouldn't have written about ice cream last chapter, because now it's all I can think about :/ Doesn't help that this chapter mentions it, too. I really do bring this on myself sometimes.  
Brianne: Rhodri basically has no background on it. Never read any of the books, and basically walked past her siblings watching Peter Jackson's FoTR. Any exposure after that was pop culture references- memes of the Eye of Sauron and Gandalf. She secretly kicks herself for not watching the films or reading the books, you can be sure of that. :P  
Guest/s: Hah, Glorfindel is an odd one. So exceptionally powerful, with a whole host of amazing feats on his resume, but mostly because it's necessary. At least this version is. I prefer portraying male characters with a wide range of emotions, with large helpings of both stereotypically "feminine" and "masculine" ones. I think it gives them more depth. Also, nooooo! Rhodri can't teach anyone English, otherwise they'll catch on to when she whips out words like 'wanker.' She keeps it secret for a reason :D

I made sure to keep my angry walk up as long as it took to get to my office, threw open the door and stomped in, closing it firmly behind me. Once inside, I grabbed my guitar, went to my chair, and started strumming away happily, waiting for Glorfindel, Elrond, and Olórin- perhaps others, too- to show up. Sure enough, I was about three-quarters of the way through _Classical Gas_ when there was a soft knock at the door.

"Rhodri?" I heard Glorfindel's voice, gentle and sweet. "Can we come in?"

"Oh, really, Glorfindel!" came from an exasperated Elrond, who knocked on the door loudly and urgently. "Rhodri, we're coming in there!"

"That uncivilised detritivore had better not have come, too!" I shouted at the door as it burst open and Glorfindel, Elrond, and Olórin all tumbled in.

"No, Curumo is _not_ here," the ever-calm Olórin said as he straightened up, raising his eyebrows at me. "You made it quite clear he had outstayed his welcome in front of the entire crowd that had assembled, and he took leave of Imladris shortly after you departed."

"Oh, good," I said, dropping all pretence and smiling as I put the guitar down.

"What in heaven's name were you _doing _back there?" Elrond demanded, a look of absolute mortification cemented into his face.

"Shut the door and I'll tell you," I said with a grin.

Glorfindel closed the door quickly and everyone took a seat as I explained what had happened during the meeting and how Curumo had confronted me after that.

They sat in a shocked silence for a moment before Olórin finally spoke up. "You- you invaded Curumo's thoughts?"

I nodded once.

"And he didn't detect you?"

"Nope. He only noticed me shaking my head once I had departed. Glorfindel here," I gestured at my spouse, "has been a real sport and let me practice getting into his head without making my presence known. Thanks, darling," I shot him a thumbs-up and winked.

"What do you think the image of the Ring in the grass meant?" Olórin asked nobody in particular.

"Agh!" I vocalised in frustration, kicking myself for not seizing the train of thought and looking into it more closely. Merely observing it seemed to be sufficient at the time. "I'm sorry," I said regretfully. "I should've checked, but I completely forgot."

"I would guess it means he thinks it is still in the fields somewhere, not necessarily that he knows where it is exactly, otherwise he would have simply picked it up, surely," Glorfindel posed to us.

"Let us hope," Olórin said grimly.

"We could send some of our own people to search the region as well, just in case there is something down there worth finding," Elrond mused, rubbing his chin contemplatively with one finger.

"It couldn't hurt," I said with a shrug. "Or, if we want to be a little subtler about it, we could ask the Lady Galadriel to do it."

"Also a possibility," Elrond acknowledged, nodding.

"What of that ring of Bilbo's, then, Olórin?" Glorfindel enquired.

Olórin hummed thoughtfully. "Mmm, yes, I was thinking about that," he said after a moment. "I will be keeping an extremely close watch on that."

"Is there anything we can do to assist?" I asked. Glorfindel and Elrond nodded, watching him attentively.

"We must do what we can to keep the Shire away from anyone's attention, though how we would achieve that, I do not know." His brow creased as he looked upwards, like he was checking the ceiling for any ideas written up there. "It may also be well to try and seek out the creature Gollum, who I don't doubt is searching for the Ring."

My eyes widened. "How much does he know about Bilbo, do you think?"

Olórin shook his head a little. "I am not sure. I would rather that whatever information he _does _have is not shared with Sauron or Curumo, though."

"They might not have any interest in him, though," Glorfindel said hopefully. "Who knows that he owned that Ring, and even then, who is to say that it is the One Ring?"

"Is that a risk you would be willing to take, Lord Glorfindel?" Olórin asked him with a serious look.

Glorfindel sighed and shook his head. "Forgive me, I was overtaken by optimism a moment there."

"We'll need plenty of that in time to come, I fancy," I murmured, smiling at Glorfindel a little. His hopefulness was hard not to love.

"Perhaps if we can delegate the Ring hunt to Galadriel, we can dispatch some of our own people to patrol for Gollum," Elrond proposed.

"Sounds like a plan," I said with a nod.

"I suppose that is probably all we can do for the time being," Olórin muttered gloomily.

"In which case, there is no sense worrying too much if we can help it," Glorfindel said. "We'll do what we can, and take the rest as it comes."

This was met with resigned nods from all present.

I stood up. "Well, it's a little early for Happy Hour, so how about we go and unwind a little with some cake?" I suggested, my mouth watering at the prospect of fanging into a honking great slice of apple upside-down cake (my favourite).

This seemed agreeable to the others, and so I made for the door before Glorfindel's voice made me turn around.

"Oh, Rhodri, speaking of food," he began.

"Mmm?"

"What was this dish you were speaking of with Curumo?" he tapped his chin with his finger. "Ice cream or something, wasn't it?" Elrond and Olórin both nodded, equally as curious.

"Oh!" I said, having completely forgotten about all that already. "Goodness, yes, I'm quite surprised I never mentioned it before. It is a frozen dessert made by churning milk, eggs, and sugar until you get an airy but thick consistency."

"That sounds delicious," Olórin murmured. Glorfindel and Elrond, appearing quite taken with the idea as well, nodded.

"It _is_ delicious," I replied. "Pairs quite nicely with cake, as a matter of fact," I added, trying to think back to the last time I ate cake and ice cream together.

"Is… ah, is that secret recipe of yours ever going to be trialled?" Elrond broached cautiously. "I, for one, would be more than happy to try it and provide helpful feedback." His question was met with unanimous agreement from Olórin and Glorfindel.

By chance, I did recall my father showing the five of us kids how to make ice cream without a machine one Saturday when the weather was particularly inclement. It had two winning features: the yield of dessert at the end, and sufficiently tired us out that we weren't as liable to engage in chaotic behaviour while trapped indoors.

"What do you say we give it a go now?" I proposed with a grin.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Olórin said, and we made our way to the kitchens.

It was fairly busy in the kitchens today, what with the Council having been called and my birthday celebrations being under way. I availed us of the basic ingredients and tools, and we headed outside to work there. I was glad this particular day had decided to be quite nippy, as it made the job a bit quicker. After filling a huge bowl with ice and salt and then another, smaller bowl inside, we threw the ingredients in and took turns churning it. It ended up taking far less time than I had anticipated because the Elves, of course, were so strong. What had started as a cold bowl of goop became the most gorgeous looking ice cream in ten minutes.

We each grabbed a spoon and took a little.

"Ah, lovely," I mumbled happily. "Just right."

Sounds of delighted approval came from my companions shortly after.

"So you'd have it again, would you?" I asked with a smile, laughing a little as the nods got more and more fervent. "Let's get some cake and get eating, then."

The lack of advanced refrigeration technology in Imladris meant that ice cream would have to be either left as a deep winter treat, or eaten shortly after being made. Not that that seemed to be much of an issue, since today's batch disappeared with exceptional speed. We'd made quite a bit of the stuff, and when we'd taken a scoop each to have with our cake, we offered the (substantial) leftovers to the kitchen staff, who made short work of it.

When we were about halfway through eating our cake when a familiar face showed up and paced over to the table where we were sitting.

"Oh, Sidhiel!" I waved at her cheerfully as she approached us. "Hello! Do you want some cake?" I took the cake spade and made to cut her off a big hunk before she held up a hand in polite declination.

"Thank you but no," she said, though her eyes showed a rather obvious reluctance before she shook her head and spoke again. "I come with a message from Prince Legolas."

"Well, I'll just leave this here in case you change your mind…" I said innocently, moving the cake plate closer to her. "You can always eat _and _talk, you know."

"An excellent point," said Glorfindel enthusiastically as he pushed the plate even closer. "You've come all this way. It is well to keep one's strength up."

It didn't take much convincing. Sidhiel quickly cut herself a small slice and sat down at the table. "I do not think King Thranduil will like this," she said nervously.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," I returned with a devilish wink. "Besides, you can blame me as much as you like. Communal cake eating is an important part of my culture, and you would have hated to disrupt good relations by declining and thus causing offence."

I cut half my scoop of ice cream and put it on her plate. "Try it with this, and tell me all."

After a moment of borderline inappropriate noises from Sidhiel as she sampled the ice cream with cake, she delivered her report.

"Prince Legolas has sent me with a message regarding Lady Bregedúr."

"Oh?" I asked as I looked up. It had been a few years since I saw her last, and I had been wondering what devilry she was up to of late.

"They are presently expecting their first child," she began, and was interrupted by Glorfindel and I banging on the table and cheering joyfully. Elrond beamed at the news, and even Olórin, who had barely seen her, looked pleased.

Sidhiel was taken aback but graciously waited for us to stop acting like zoo animals before continuing, taking it as an opportunity to shovel down her food.

"Prince Legolas has sent me, however, on a less joyful task," she said seriously.

The smile fell off my face like it was made of teflon, and I regarded her worriedly. "What is it?"

"The Lady Bregedúr appears to be experiencing difficulty during this time, and so she has sent for you."

My stomach dropped. Bregedúr wasn't inclined to accept help from anyone, so something must have been seriously wrong. I quickly stood up.

"Of course I'll go. Do you have any further information about her condition?"

Sidhiel confirmed that she did.

"In which case, I'd appreciate it if you followed me to my office and we can speak about it there. Excuse me, gentlemen and Olórin." Olórin shot me a withering look as Sidhiel and I left, our half-eaten desserts abandoned on the table.

"What's happening, Sidhiel?" I asked her as soon as I had shut my office door behind us.

"Lady Bregedúr has locked herself up in her quarters," Sidhiel confided in me with concern. "She refuses to leave them, even to take food or a walk."

I frowned a little. That was very odd. Bregedúr usually loved the outdoors. I had worried that she would find life in Mirkwood to be a little too dark and cramped for her liking, so her sequestering herself away like this was most out of character.

"Do you know when this started?" I enquired.

Sidhiel shook her head. "Not precisely, as I have been on patrols, but I believe it has been over the last few months at least."

"Hm," I murmured. "Well, I'll pack straight away. Are you happy enough to depart within the hour?"

She nodded, and with that, we got up and left, making our way back to the dining hall to inform the others.

"I need to- where's the rest of my cake and ice cream?" I glanced at my plate blankly and saw a very shameful Glorfindel, Olórin, and Elrond staring back up at me.

"We were unsure how long you would be gone, and your ice cream was melting…" Elrond mumbled abashedly with a feeble shrug. They all looked incredibly sorry, but not sorry enough to not do it again on future occasions.

I shrugged back. What else could I do? It wasn't like I was going to ask them to vomit it back up. "Anyway," I continued, "As I was saying, I need to depart for Mirkwood as soon as I've finished packing."

"I'll come with you," Glorfindel said firmly, standing up. Normally, I would have been wary about anyone accompanying me on work purposes, lest they find out who my client was, but Sidhiel had sort of let the cat out of the bag in that regard.

"Jolly good, my love," I said with a smile. "I'm sorry to dash before the party like this," I said regretfully.

Elrond shook his head. "Never mind that. It is early in the day yet, still plenty of time to postpone it without trouble. I will inform the kitchen staff immediately."

"Thanks, pal," I said gratefully. "Guess we'd better be off, then." I looked at Glorfindel and Sidhiel, who both nodded.

"Travel safely," Olórin said to us, inclining his head and smiling.

"You take care, too," I replied, then looking at Elrond saying, "Behave yourself while we're gone."

"If you insist," he said with such a put-upon tone that you'd think I'd asked him to cut the grass with a pair of scissors.

Half an hour later, the horses were saddled and we were off to Mirkwood. I regretted not using my birthday wish to ask for a smooth journey, because the weather was absolutely bloody awful on the way. The snow at the pass of Caradhras was already starting to come in quickly, and we had a couple of days' nonstop travel to get through without being snowed in completely. Happily, though, we weren't attacked by any travelling bands of Orcs or a rogue Nazgûl.

Eventually, though, we made it there. I was impressed to see that the Mirkwood Elves really had made the best of a bad situation when they were forcibly displaced to the north of the forest. Thranduil's halls were even more magnificent than his father's had been, which was saying an awful lot. The huge, reddish trees gave the place a warm atmosphere, and despite the size of this massive, woven tree-dome, it felt pleasantly cosy. Thranduil had somehow managed to make the setup equally as impenetrable as Oropher's treehive had been, but the place was much more bright and airy, with plenty of glowing sunshine coming in gaps between the branches and through what remained of the amber leaves. I could've envisioned many happy hours sliding around on the huge branches here with Glorfindel were my visit not of a much more solemn nature.

We were taken to the throne room to be presented to Thranduil and Legolas, who to my relief both seemed genuinely pleased to see us.

"Ah, Rhodri, Glorfindel," Thranduil said with a smile, making an inviting gesture. We approached him and nodded deferentially.

"Thank you in advance for your hospitality, Your Majesty," I said respectfully. I looked at him and Legolas. "Our heartfelt congratulations to you both on the news of the expected newest royal family member."

Legolas looked like he was having difficulty staying in his seat. I got the impression he was keen to do away with the niceties and herd me into his wife's quarters. Unfortunately for him, we had the usual handful of questions about how our journey was and what news we had from Imladris. When the small talk had come to an end, though, he took his chance and stood up.

"Allow me to show you to your chambers, and then, perhaps, to see the Lady Bregedúr?"

Glorfindel and I looked over and Thranduil, who excused us with a laugh, and with that, we followed Legolas out.

"Bregedúr does not know you have come," he said to us quietly as we ascended a long flight of spiral stairs. "I worried she might refuse help if I told her."

"Oh, I think she'll tolerate our presence well enough," I said mildly, thinking of all the times she got in my face in Imladris when she wanted attention.

Legolas looked at us seriously. "She is changed these days," he said, and did not elaborate further. I elected not to say anything more, simply following him to the third floor of this huge dome, where we were taken to a large foyer which I presumed to be their chambers.

He led us to a large set of double doors and opened one slowly, sticking his head inside.

"Bregedúr," I heard him say. "I have guests to see you."

"Oh?" came a voice from inside.

Legolas leaned back out and beckoned for us to go inside.

Glorfindel and I strode in and saw a rather obviously pregnant Bregedúr sitting in an armchair, looking up from a book. Her discontented look seemed to clash with her radiant glow.

"Well, well," she said in her usual humour as she looked at us with a wry but joyful smile, "Look what the wind blew in!"

"Ugh, don't even _talk _to me about wind right now," I said with a groan, skipping over sentimental greetings as I marched over and drew up a chair beside her. "The blizzard that hit us at the Path of Caradhras was an absolute horror show."

Bregedúr raised an eyebrow. "You know how the weather is there at this time of the year, though, you two," she said, eyeing Glorfindel and me with cynicism. "What on earth were you doing travelling through that to come here?"

"We wanted to come and say hello," Glorfindel said with a warm smile. "Congratulations on your baby!"

Bregedúr smiled back. "Thank you, Glorfindel."

"Have you thought of any names?" he asked in excitement. I sensed a hint of baby fever setting in again in him, which had occurred without fail every time someone close to us acquired a child, and Legolas and I watched on happily as he and Bregedúr gushed about the upcoming offspring. I was almost certain that had we been dropped in London, Glorfindel would have become a midwife.

After a while, Legolas requested that Glorfindel come with him to assist with some unspecified errand. Glorfindel obliged, leaving Bregedúr and me alone now.

"How have you been, mate, hm?" I asked quietly, dropping the jovial, brash tone we both usually employed with each other.

"These last few months have been a trial, to be honest with you," Bregedúr said with a sigh as she rested a hand on her belly.

"Mmm, so I heard," I said with a nod. Bregedúr looked over at me in puzzlement.

"Your spouse informed us you were having a hard time. Sent Sidhiel to us, and we came straight out when she delivered the message."

Bregedúr looked indignant at this, but I put a hand on her arm. "He was very worried for you." I raised my eyebrows at her.

"And I'm glad he did arrange for us to be told," I added, "because I wouldn't have wanted one of my best friends to suffer through something like this when I could have at least been there for a bit of support." I smiled at her a little.

Resigned, Bregedúr let out a puff of air and rolled her eyes at me. A small, lopsided smile curved up one edge of her mouth.

"So what's going on that worries your spouse enough to get us over, then?" I continued.

She furrowed her brow a little, though I wasn't sure if it was reluctance or simply pregnancy brain affecting her ability to string a sentence together. Saying nothing, I waited patiently.

"There's… something going on in my brain, Rhodri," she said worriedly after a moment.

"What sort of something?"

Bregedúr regarded me fearfully as she whispered, "I don't know, but it's changed me so suddenly, and not for the better, either."

"Oh? What's changed?"

She absent-mindedly stroked her bump and her voice grew stronger and full of disgust.

"I'm not brave any more. I wasn't ever scared of anything, and now I'm trapped. I can't go outside. I live in here now, Rhodri!" She slammed her fist into the armrest angrily. "Look what's become of me. I was a top scout in Imladris! I slayed Orcs by the dozen! Now I can't even leave my chambers to get food because I'm too afraid." Bregedúr sat seething, fists curled up so tightly her knuckles were white.

"I have an idea of what the problem might be," I broached after a moment. "You certainly wouldn't be the first person to go through this."

Bregedúr's head jerked up as she watched me in astonishment. "You mean other people have had this?"

"Well, I would have to ask you a few more questions first before I could be absolutely certain, but I have absolutely had people come to me with similar issues in my job," I replied. "Would you be interested in talking with me about it in my role as a psychologist?"

With a very intrigued expression, Bregedúr nodded.

"Time for the most boring five minutes of your life, then," I said with a chuckle as I rummaged through my backpack for the papers she needed to autograph.


	48. Falls risks and camping trips

**Author's note**: CW: for anyone with OCD and gets distressed reading too much about it, might be best to skip onto the next chapter. Take care out there, you good eggs! Have a drink of water and be kind to yourself, now! You're important and deserve good things, and of course, I really appreciate your comments! :D Mighty kind of you to take time out of your day and read this stuff, but comments are the cherry on top, really.  
Jane: They have a lot in common it's true, but also enough opposites for this fascinating mixed dynamic where they'll either feed off each other or balance each other out. There's no in-between. Emotional Glorfindel will sob on stoic Rhodri for hours, and she'll have him functioning again with some comforting words and physical affection. And then the tables turn when larger-than-life Glorfindel brings Rhodri, who once again is shipwrecked on some moral/intellectual conundrum and forgets everything else exists, back down to earth. It's all about give and take, right? :D  
Guest: With Tulkas and Irmo squabbling over her, Manwë passed Rhodri over to Ilúvatar to sequester away somewhere. The Valar, after all, could go anywhere and do anything, and there was nothing Tulkas couldn't get into, so she couldn't just be hidden somewhere in Arda. Ilúvatar thought London was a good sort of spot to park her. I have no idea why he treated her to the human experience rather than let her keep her Maia body. Can't hurt having an extra perspective, though. It's certainly served her well in her dealings with Gilraen and Aragorn.  
Rosenthorne: It was Elrond's idea to requisition Rhodri's cake, would you believe it. All those morals of his are a sham, honestly.

§  
"So tell me more about feeling trapped," I said to Bregedúr. "Do you mean in a physical sense? Mental? Something else?"

"Both of those," Bregedúr answered bitterly. "I can't leave my quarters, and I can't get out of my head, either. It's as though something tries to strangle me every time I go to leave."

"Do you physically feel like you're being strangled whenever you try to leave?"

"A little, yes. I feel my heart hammering, though, and my body goes cold." She shook her head. "It's fear, I know it is."

"So where can you be without feeling that fear?"

"Here," Bregedúr said with a small shrug. "Well, and the other few rooms in our chambers here, I think. I haven't tried all of them, because some of them are kept for any children we will have, so they are empty for now."

I nodded. "How would you feel if you were in Imladris in your room? Would you feel calm there?"

She pondered my question for a moment before slowly saying, "I… think I would feel calm there, yes, but it is hard to tell, because I absolutely do not want to travel on horseback presently." She shuddered a little. "The thought of doing that is equally as terrifying as leaving the chambers here."

"Well, most people who fall pregnant are reluctant to ride. What if, say, you travelled in a carriage?"

Bregedúr shook her head hard. "Absolutely not," she repeated.

"Right," I said, making a quick note. "So there is absolutely nowhere outside of your chambers- and, let's say your room in Imladris- that you would be comfortable? There are a lot of rooms that look a lot like this one that I saw on the way here."

"Nowhere at all," she lamented. "I tried to go for a walk with Legolas to the music hall here, hoping that playing the flute a little would calm my nerves, but to absolutely no avail. I was frightened the whole way and only wanted to turn back."

"Having Legolas with you doesn't help, either?"

"Not really," she said sadly as she shook her head again. "I have tried to push through it, and it had me crying all evening. We have tried wine, dancing, music, miruvor, various potions and unguents, and nothing seems to have made a hint of difference."

"What exactly is it that is causing you to feel this fear whenever you leave your chambers, do you know?" I enquired.

"I… I worry that I might injure myself somehow," she murmured.

"You injure yourself all the time, Bregedúr; you are constantly exposing yourself to dangerous situations through your training and other fast-paced activities. That's never bothered you before," I observed.

"I wasn't carrying a baby then, Rhodri," she reminded me, raising her eyebrows.

"Ah, so the concern is really for the health of your unborn child, then?" I observed.

"Mmm."

"Has anything happened to you out there that makes you doubt their safety? A big shock, or watching someone else get hurt?"  
"No, no, I haven't had anything like that."

"Surely the halls around here would be reasonably safe as a rule, yes? The spiders don't come into the main areas, do they?"

"There are other hazards," she muttered nervously. "Everything is a hazard now, just about. Stairs, for one. Others running by who might bump into me. What if I went for a walk in the middle of the night and fell, and nobody was there to help? Or even in the middle of the day, when things are at a lull? I could be there for hours."

Bregedúr gave a frustrated groan and slouched in her chair. "What's the matter with me, Rhodri?"

I had a pretty good idea what the matter was at this point. Experiencing fear of leaving a certain area, or going into certain places like the inside of a library or out in the forum, is the hallmark symptom of agoraphobia. Sometimes it arises for fear of not being able to escape from a terrible situation one envisions happening, or that if it happens, that no help will arrive to rescue them. I still didn't have enough information for a proper diagnosis, though. There was a sticky differential diagnosis to be made first that would rule out obsessive-compulsive disorder, which occurs when upsetting thoughts that cause significant distress constantly invade. People with OCD dispel these thoughts, or temporarily offset the anxiety from them, by carrying out rituals like washing their hands or checking locks. Was Bregedúr worrying about her baby all the time? Or was it just an overblown fear of the outdoors?

"I need a little more information before I can tell you what I think might be going on," I said. "Let me say, though, that it's nothing to do with your character or anything like that. I think something totally abstract from you is at play here."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Go ahead."

"How are you doing when you're in your chambers? Are you able to relax a bit when you're not outside?"

"Oh, yes," Bregedúr replied. "Well, I don't like being indoors all the time, and I don't think it's especially healthy to be confined like this, but I feel safe in here. I pass the time by reading and playing the harp. Not the most… exciting existence, but I am pleased knowing the baby is safe."

"So you don't have any worries about your baby while you're in here? No horrible thoughts or scenarios playing out in your head of you injuring yourself somehow?"

"Not really, no," she said, the syllables drawing out like she was assembling them on the spot.

"Is there something that you're not certain about?"

"Well, I don't like being cooped up inside, and this has had such an impact on my daily life that it is hard not to feel stressed. I can still perform some of my duties in here, such as receiving guests and correspondence with Elrond, but beyond that, life is very limited," she admitted sadly.

"Tell me about how you feel when you talk with people," I requested. "I imagine your social life has taken a bit of a hit, but are you happy enough to have visitors?"

"Yes, when they have the time to visit, I enjoy company greatly. It isn't… especially stimulating in here," she mused, flicking her eyes quickly around the room. "Not for such extended periods, anyway."

"How often does that happen, would you say?" I probed, making a note.

"Oh, not very often. Last time I thought about it was days ago, and before that it was another few days again."

"Do you feel any need to keep checking that your chambers are safe for you?"

Bregedúr frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for example, if you want to avoid stairs, I suppose that is because you worry about falling over, yes?"

"That's right."

"Right. So in your keenness to avoid falling over, do you get any urges to keep checking the floors in here to make sure it's even, or that there isn't anything lying around that trips you up?"

She shook her head. "No, in here is perfectly fine. I will pick up something if it's lying around, because it would be unwise to leave it there. That seems like a reasonable precaution to me, though, but I don't need to check beyond a brief glance as I'm walking."

"So in other words, your mind is your own when you're safe here?"

"Precisely," she confirmed.

"I see. I suppose the last thing I'm wondering is how long this has been going on for."

"Oh, it's been all through pregnancy. I'm six months along now," she said with a smile.

I smiled back. "Well, it sounds to me like what you're suffering from is agoraphobia, pal."

"A-what?"

"It means a fear of going outside."

Bregedúr looked at me like I'd just made the most trite observation in recorded history.

"Well, _yes, _Rhodri, I've been telling you I've been afraid to go outside all afternoon, now!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"I know," I said calmly, holding up a hand to placate her. "It's the name of a specific disorder. People can be afraid to go outside for a lot of reasons, and I had to make sure there wasn't something else causing it."

"So now that you know what it is, can you fix it?" she asked.

"It'll take work, but I think we can definitely improve it," I answered with a nod. "Don't expect overnight results, though."

Bregedúr nodded. "Understood."

"I think that the main problem is the way you view the outside. It sounds like you've got some ideas about how unsafe the world beyond your door is and that those ideas don't really match up with how it really is. What I think we should do is start examining what happens in your mind when you think about going out, and then when we change the thoughts, we change how you _feel_ about being outside, too. How does that sound to you?"

"All right," she consented. "Let's give it a try."

"Excellent. We'll start tomorrow," I informed her.

"What will you do to keep yourself amused in the meantime?" Bregedúr asked me.

"I thought I might hang around in here and pester you," I responded with a wicked grin as I started poking her in the face.

Quick as a flash, Bregedúr's hand shot out and grabbed my hand before I could land another prod into her cheek.

"I was hoping you'd say that." She gave me a small smile. "Not that there is much to do in here," she added with a hint of awkwardness as she cast her eyes around her study.

"Oh, I disagree," I said mildly as I joined her in scanning the room. "I think this would be the perfect place for a camping trip."

"_Camping?"_ Bregedúr repeated, eyes widening.

"Indeed," I declared. "In fact, we shall camp tonight, all four of us!"

"Where? In this room?"

"Yep."

Bregedúr regarded me with a mixture of bafflement and suspicion, as though my senses had not merely taken leave of me, but had quit and fled the building entirely.

"There's a campfire to cook our food," I pointed at the unlit fireplace at the other end of the room, "and we have room to set up a tent. It'll be great."

"You're absolutely out of your mind," my friend breathed.

"Quite, yes," I agreed as I stood up, walked over the fireplace, and put some logs in. "Now, are you going to help me with this fire, or are you just going to sit there like a pudding?"

Bregedúr, not being the type to scupper a foolish idea, shrugged and came over to help me arrange the firewood properly.

Naturally, Glorfindel was extremely keen on the idea of indoor camping. Legolas, however, was a little more confused by the prospect.

"So why are we setting up a tent inside, again?" the perplexed Legolas enquired as he passed Glorfindel and me a huge sheet of canvas.

"Would you like to sleep in the great outdoors without shelter?" I asked back.

"But this isn't the great outdoors!" Legolas insisted.

"Not with that attitude, it isn't," I retorted as we draped the canvas over the backs of four armchairs. I put my hands on my hips in satisfaction. "There. Installed!"

After we dragged in a mattress for Bregedúr to sleep on, we were ready for the highly regulated adventure of a lifetime. The majority of the evening was spent roasting various goodies over the fire and pretending absolutely nothing was wrong with the world, but we managed to exercise some discipline and spent the last few hours sleeping.

When we'd woken up, eaten, and packed up the tent, Legolas and Glorfindel made the most of the feeble excuse to take it back to storage so that Bregedúr's next therapy session could start.

"So you think there is something wrong with my thoughts?" Bregedúr said to me as she rubbed her chin pensively.

"Essentially, yes, I think somewhere along the line, you've misread something about the safety of outside your chambers, and it's made it seem a lot more threatening than it actually is. If possible, I'd like to try and get to the bottom of that today."

Bregedúr nodded. "Right. So where do we start?"

"I think it might be well to begin with a scenario, so we can see what kind of thought process is going on when you feel that fear. I want you to pretend I've just asked you to come with me for a short walk downstairs to the kitchens. Now, tell me what's happening in your head."

I unrolled a scroll of fresh parchment and turned it landscape, my pen at the ready.

Her breathing got a little deeper, and a flash of worry came over her face for a moment. "Panic," was all she said.

"Panic," I repeated, writing the word down on the right hand side of the paper in big letters. "Okay, let's backtrack a little with that. What happens before you feel the fear?"

"Ah… well, my heart pounds and my stomach churns, I suppose," she said.

I noted those two things down to the left of the word 'panic,' and drew an arrow to make the start of a flow chart.

"And back a little further, what comes in before that?"

Bregedúr frowned. "I… I see myself tripping down the stairs, or injuring myself some other way and not having anyone around to help."

"Aha, now we're getting to the heart of the matter," I said confidently as I scribbled down those examples and drew another arrow. "Do you envision any other scenarios like that which make you feel afraid?"

"Mmm… no, only about having an accident and injuring myself."

Nodding, I quickly added a couple more notes and arrows.

"All right. Well, have a look at this," I said as I walked over and handed her the flow chart. "What you can see here is the cycle of thinking that you're trapped in right now."

I took my pen and pointed it at the very left of the chart. "You start here, thinking about going outside. Then, these thoughts suddenly hit you, of you injuring yourself and, by extension, your baby, and that's where your trouble starts."

Bregedúr observed in interest, following my pen as I moved it along to the right. "After that, you get alarmed, that heart rate goes up, your stomach churns, and the panic sets in. As a consequence, you stay inside to return to your feeling of safety, and when you want to go out next time," I looped back around to the very left again, "it starts all over again, you see."

"Fascinating," she breathed. "Well, if I'm trapped in the cycle, how am I meant to stop these thoughts from coming in so that I don't get the racing heart and fright?" Bregedúr looked up at me despondently.

"You're trapped in it for _now_. This is where I come in. I want for us to take a closer look at these scenarios that pop up when you think of going out."

"What is there to examine?" she groaned in frustration. "They're vivid enough- more than sufficient to put any expectant mother off going outside."

"They certainly are if you acknowledge them as true or guaranteed, yes." I raised an eyebrow at her. "I understand the desire to do everything possible to protect your unborn child, but you cannot simply lie in bed for a whole year while you are expecting. Elves are built to be active. Especially you!"

"I know, but I have more control over what happens in here," she said nervously.

"Being in here doesn't necessarily mean you live in a risk-free environment, Bregedúr," I remarked mildly. "You find comfort in being in here because your idea of what is dangerous is built on specious foundations."

"So you're telling me I've got the wrong idea about how to keep my baby safe?" she said, raising an eyebrow. Uh oh. I would have to choose my words carefully here.

"Well, look, it's a terrific idea to not fall over, or trip down the stairs. Babies don't like that." I said, shaking my head.

"But...?" she prodded, keeping her eyes squarely fixed on me as she waited for the follow-up to my apparent platitude.

"But you need to be realistic about how likely that sort of thing is to occur while you're living everyday life, especially if you take a few extra precautions."

She frowned a little, looking at the fingers she had started drumming on the armrest.

"How many times, for example, have you fallen while taking the stairs, excluding, perhaps, the first ten years of your life?"

Her frown deepened as she appeared to turn over my question.

"Once," she mumbled.

"What happened?"

"I was standing in the narrowest part of the spiral staircase and running down."

"So… you mean to tell me the only time you fell down the stairs was when you were doing something fast-paced and highly irresponsible?"

Bregedúr scowled. "You mock me," she said in a wounded tone.

"I do not," I replied calmly. "I'm telling you that the only time you have experienced disaster on a staircase was when you were actively courting it, and even if you had been taking the stairs in a responsible manner, one incident over the course of an almost 4,800 year life span is still miraculous odds."

She looked at me cynically. "Is it?"

"I know Elrond's done it at least three times since I met him," I replied with a shrug. "And I've never managed to go more than a few years without tripping on something, myself. You're really very graceful and strong, you know, Bregedúr."

Bregedúr fell back into her silence for a moment as she appeared to weigh up the cost of being wrong against declining a compliment on a skill she prided greatly.

"Well, maybe you're right about that," she conceded, quickly following up with, "but even if it were unlikely, if anything happened and I were injured, what if nobody found me?"

"What sort of injury do you actually anticipate happening, Bregedúr? You Elves are such hardy, robust sorts that it's almost impossible to incapacitate you. Even when pregnant. Unless you're experiencing a problem with your pregnancy that you haven't mentioned yet?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with me," she murmured.

"Do you feel weak, dizzy, at risk of losing consciousness, anything like that?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that," she shook her head.

"So what specifically do you envision happening out there that would see you lying on the ground, completely unable to fend for yourself for hours at a time? So far, you've only really mentioned falling down stairs and someone running into you."

Bregedúr looked at me in shock, her mouth opening and shutting it repeatedly with no sound escaping.

"I… I don't really know," she uttered, now a little bewildered herself. "It is mostly the vision of me injured and helpless that I see in my mind's eye. The circumstances behind it are not usually a part of the scenario."

"So realistically, what would you say are your chances of getting so grievously wounded in Thranduil's halls that you cannot even shout for help?"

"Almost nonexistent," she whispered before looking up at me.

"Right," I said with a smile, summarising her odds of injury in a small box below the scenarios she'd mentioned. "Now we come to the hard work part. What we want to do is challenge these scenarios, just as you would any dubious information you came across, with solid, reliable logic." I drew an arrow from the scenarios down to the logic box, and then drew another arrow from that box. "Once you successfully rebut the faulty information enough, we'll be able to move onto phase two of treatment."

"So I have to reason my way out of these thoughts, in other words?" she clarified.

"Spot on," I said with a wink and a thumbs-up. "Let's think of a few more together to add to this list, eh?"

The remainder of the session involved thinking up some choice arguments for the reasonableness of taking the stairs, the risk of injury, and the attentiveness of the Mirkwood Elves (to the point of nosiness, at times). With a list that was almost half a page long, Bregedúr picked a handful she found particularly useful and was tasked with getting into the habit of automatically using them to question those distressing images.

Once we had wrapped up for the day, I excused myself to go for a walk, find a snack, and have a look around the place. Bregedúr asked me to send Legolas to her if I ran into him, which I promised faithfully to do.

After sticking my head into the kitchens and giving the staff there my most winning smile, I triumphantly walked the magnificent halls with a lovely, crisp apple in one hand, and a few slices of bread in the other.

Naturally, it was when I was at my least dignified, having taken such an enormous hunk of apple into my mouth that it poked my tonsils and sent me into a wild coughing fit, that I ran into Legolas.

"Rhodri, my goodness, are you all right?" he asked, dashing out of the library and slapping me hard on the back as I hacked away in front of everyone.  
"I'm just fine, thanks," I squeaked once I had extracted the huge piece of food from my craw and hid it behind my back. "Bregedúr asked me to send you to her if I ran into you."

Legolas, to my relief, seemed to understand instinctively that I had been caught at a rather embarrassing moment, and after informing me Glorfindel was to be found in the chambers assigned to us and wishing me a pleasant day, departed promptly.

My day's work done, I made a beeline for my lodgings, hoping to rope my spouse into a spot of branch climbing and sliding before dinner.

**Psych Notes**

**Agoraphobia:**

Being afraid of at least two of these things ("agoraphobia situations"): taking public transport, being in open/enclosed spaces (1 point each), being alone while away from home, standing in a queue/being in crowds.

Fearing or avoiding the agoraphobia situations because of a fear that if the person should start feeling afraid, or something embarrassing or incapacitating happens, escape will be impossible, or that no help will come.

The person is almost always afraid of their agoraphobia situations (i.e. always afraid of standing in a queue, being in open spaces, etc.)

The person needs someone with them to get through the agoraphobic situation, or forces themselves to go through it despite their distress, or actively avoids the situation as a whole.

Whatever fear/distress the person feels in the agoraphobia situation is far greater than the true danger of the situation.

The issue is ongoing, usually 6 months or more.

The issue affects the person's ability to function normally in their personal, social, or work life.

The symptoms aren't due to another disorder (see below for the main differential dx)

**Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD):**

Showing signs of obsessions, compulsions, or both:  
\- _Obsessions:_ repeated and constant thoughts, urges, or images that are distressing, intrusive, and unwanted (e.g. hurting loved ones, dying, being diseased). The person tries to stop the thoughts (and thus the distress) by thinking or doing something else (i.e. a compulsion)  
\- _Compulsions:_ repetitive behaviours or mental acts that the person feels they must do in order to stop the thoughts. These acts are not realistically connected with preventing the situation, or they're excessive. Example behaviours include hand washing (often repeated to the point the skin is dried and cracked, or scrubbed raw), lock checking. Mental acts might be praying, counting, etc.

The obsessions or compulsions take up a lot of time (e.g. an hour or more per day), cause a lot of distress, or affect the person's work/personal/social life.

The symptoms are not due to another condition (medical or psychological) or use of a drug (medical or recreational).

**Differential Diagnosis**

This was quite a sticky one. There can be substantial overlap between agoraphobia and OCD, particularly if the person has OCD without any outward compulsions (known as "pure O"). An agoraphobe will often get a distressing scene flash in their mind when they think of having to confront their agoraphobia situation/s, and immediately they'll retreat into the house or shy away from the situation in some way. It's an unwanted thought that stresses them out a lot- very much like an obsession characteristic of OCD.

The difference between the two lies in the situations the thought arises. Though someone with agoraphobia probably isn't pleased to feel the need to avoid crowds to keep their anxiety in check, when they're away from the situation, they cease panicking, and the frightening scenario that provokes the anxiety goes away. As with all phobias, it's situation-based fear.

In an obsession, though, the thought can often stay on loop for hours, days, months- years, even, in the most severe cases, and it doesn't matter where you are or what you are doing. Obsessions can occur at any time, for any reason (even in dreams), and without any relevant context. People with OCD might be feeding the ducks in the park when suddenly, an intrusive thought of saying something unforgivably cruel to a loved one might arise.

Bregedúr's distressing scenarios were situation-dependent. Taking 'public transport' (horse/carriage), leaving the house, and even being in an enclosed space like the library. When she was in her chambers, the thoughts ceased to bother her. To rule out OCD fully, though, Rhodri probed into whether Bregedúr, seemingly afraid of falling over, was obsessively checking the floor for tripping hazards; Bregedúr was not.

Post-traumatic stress disorder had to be ruled out as well, to make sure that the unpleasant thoughts were not flashbacks, hence enquiring whether Bregedúr had experienced a traumatic event.


	49. Prison break

**Author's note:** Whoa, you bunch have been busy with ya comments! Your feedback really makes my day ^_^ Let me say you're fabulous and deserve huge shipments of your favourite food! Stay cool/warm and well-hydrated!  
Tera: In my own interpretation, the Elves have a similar set of feelings and thoughts as humans, but they're greatly tempered by their perspectives, huge longevity, and the fact that they're not heavily motivated by bodily desires. Makes it much easier to reason your way through anything, though I guess everyone has their breaking point. But of course, that's just one perspective, right?  
Veronica: Yeah, Thranduil's a bit of an odd character to me. He'd be a fun one to pick apart in greater detail at some point :D Hard to know how much is the insular Mirkwood mentality and how much is just him being a bit of a damn snob.  
Guest: Mm, probably not the best thing for a growing baby, no, but then, humans in stressful conditions manage to evacuate rather well-adjusted infants all the time, so I guess it depends if you have genes on your side (as is the way for most things in life, really) _

§

I waited for a week before starting session number two with Bregedúr, hoping that that would be plenty of time for her to make a good habit of challenging those unpleasant thoughts that cropped up.

I still had fun with Bregedúr a few hours a day in the interim, but I also had quite some free time on my hands to spend as I liked. I hadn't really envisioned myself spending a large part of it turning over the whys and hows of Bregedúr's agoraphobia in my head, but that's what happened toward the end of the week. It baffled me, though. All the phobias I'd dealt with in Middle-Earth were usually related to something scary happening that involved the object of their fear. Legolas with the spiders, for example. Bregedúr, though, hadn't done anything of the sort. Where was this sudden fear coming from? It obviously wasn't just a faulty thought pattern, so what other reason could there be for an Elf to suddenly develop agoraphobia?

Driven by curiosity and worry, I decided to do a little investigating to see if I couldn't dig up some sort of pattern, the first course of action to do some probing about the health of the other Mirkwood Elves. Naturally, I couldn't take them all aside and survey them; by my estimate, some 7,500 Elves lived in the halls here. What I needed was a very brief overview.

I found myself standing at the door to the throne room, wondering if I was about to break some sort of royal code by heading in like a nosy journalist and badgering the monarch and his progeny with questions about his loyal subjects. Shrugging, I knocked on the door and looked around as I awaited a response. What was the worst they could do, I thought to myself. Tell me to go away? My eyes landed on what appeared to be prison cells built into one of the huge branches snaking around the forecourt and I felt my mouth go dry. Perhaps this had been unwise of me.

Before I could do a ding-dong-ditch, though, the door opened fairly wide and a guard stepped out, peering at me with deep mistrust as he tried to block the very wide doorway with his body. This was not the one who had escorted Glorfindel and me to say hello to Thranduil when we arrived, and he seemed not to be aware I was one of the party from Rivendell.

"Hello," I said with a smile. "I, ah, was just wondering if King Thranduil had a moment."

"How did you get in here?" was all he asked. His voice was deep, and his dark eyes had a hint of a threatening glimmer in them.

"Via the doors down there," came out of my mouth before I could stop myself, and god help me, my hand even moved away as I pointed down at the passage where the huge atrium connected to the main entrance to this huge city.

Bzzt. That was the wrong answer, and Mr. Grumpy looked supremely displeased to have received it.

I sighed. "I'm in Mirkwood at the invitation of Prince Legolas."

He gave absolutely no impression that he had found my excuse to be plausible, but luckily for me, I heard Legolas' voice from inside.

"Rhodri! Please come in!"

The guard went deep red now and stared at me, saying nothing. I clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a nod.  
"That's me. I'll just, ah, squeeze past you there," I said politely, going around him and into the room where Thranduil and Legolas sat, watching me with interest.

"Ah, Rhodri," Thranduil said with a smile. It seemed to be his favourite greeting at present, and it always made me feel as though he had been expecting me to drop in at any minute. What an odd man.

"King Thranduil, Prince Legolas," I greeted them both, nodding deferentially. "I hope I haven't come by at a bad time."

"Not at all," Legolas replied. "Things were rather at a lull, as a matter of fact. Are you well?"

"Oh yes," I said quickly with a smile. "I'm having a lovely time in your beautiful kingdom, thank you, and the Mirkwood hospitality is second to none."

"And how is Lady Bregedúr?" Thranduil enquired politely.

"I haven't seen her today, Your Majesty, but I intend to do so later today," I answered, strategically bypassing the divulgement of any confidential information. "In fact, it is related to Lady Bregedúr that I came to see you."

"Oh?" Legolas leaned forward in his throne now, surveying me closely. "Is there something we can do for her?"

"Ah, this is not a personal call on her behalf, per se. More that I am curious as to how she ended up unwell in the first place. I wonder if I might ask you a few questions regarding the health of your subjects here, if you're interested."

"I see," Thranduil said. "Well, we last spoke with our head healers a week ago, so I imagine we will have some information of use to you."

"Even your own observations would be of help," I replied gratefully. "How would you consider the overall mood and contentment levels of your populace now relative to, say, how it was some two years ago?"

Thranduil and Legolas both looked downhearted. "These have been trying times for my people," Thranduil began. "When they realised that the Necromancer who had driven us from Amon Lanc was Sauron, I believe it made them even more fearful upon his open declaration of residence in Mordor than they would have been had they not known."  
I nodded. "How are they coping with the fear, do you think?"

"Admirably," Legolas spoke up with a small smile. "The fear is palpable, but so is their determination and courage in keeping their home safe. The number of people ready to go to war at a moment's notice has almost doubled over the last year, because so many are training alongside their usual roles."

Thranduil smiled and nodded at his son's explanation.

"You must be very proud," I said to them both.

"Indeed, yes," Thranduil confirmed. "They have handled this magnificently."

"Certainly sounds like it," I replied. "Just coming back to your mention of the collective fear here: you say it's definitely grown since Sauron announced his return to Mordor. Have you or the healers noted anyone whose fear has disrupted their ability to function? Aside from Lady Bregedúr, that is."

Legolas and Thranduil glanced at each other as they appeared to consider my question. After a few moments' brain-racking, they both shook their heads gently.

"Nothing like that has been reported to us, no, and for my part, I have not noticed anything," Thranduil said.

"What prompts you to ask these questions, Rhodri?" Legolas asked curiously. "Do you think what Bregedúr has is a disease that might spread?"

"My concern is not contagion, no," I answered, shaking my head. "I do, however, wonder if there are other things at play that make it more likely for others to suffer as Bregedúr does. Factors that make them more vulnerable to extra anxiety. It seems, though, that everyone else is handling all of the added stress quite well, though, so I doubt that is the case…" I trailed off as an idea strolled into my head.

"Rhodri?" Thranduil asked, regarding me with a raised eyebrow.

"Unless there is a vulnerability I missed. But it's such a long shot…" I whispered to myself.

Even though Bregedúr had said the symptoms started around the time she fell pregnant, I had discounted pregnancy hormones initially because I had seen a lot of pregnant Elves in my time, and the expectant ones were about as equanimous as the non-expectant ones. As humanoids, they obviously still produced huge amounts of pregnancy hormones, because otherwise the pregnancy wouldn't be viable, but in terms of emotional surges, there was nothing to speak of in them. But what if the increased stress from Sauron plus the huge fluctuations of oestrogen and progesterone were just enough to tip Bregedúr, an already very emotional person, over the edge?

"What is it?" Legolas urged.

"This will sound like an odd question, but do you know how many residents here are expecting a baby right now?"

"As a matter of fact, only two," Legolas answered softly. "Bregedúr and me. The healer mentioned that last week."

My eyes widened. This could mean that the issue would eventually resolve on its own, once the pregnancy was over. We still had good reason to work on the problem, but it was comforting to know that an end could be in sight.

"Right," I said. "That explains a lot. In which case, Your Majesty and Your Highness, I must excuse myself to find the Lady Bregedúr."

"Is there a problem?" Legolas looked at me worriedly.

"No, but I think I have some answers now. Until I know for sure, though, I'd like to respectfully suggest that your healers warn the populace against conceiving right now."

Thranduil and Legolas looked at each other in confusion, and then at me. "I'll follow with an explanation when I can."

They nodded and gave me leave. With a smile and wave, I ran out of the throne room and into Bregedúr's chambers.

"Bregedúr!" I shouted at the entryway to her study, banging on the door furiously. "Bregedúr, are you in there?"

The door opened to reveal Bregedúr, who stood there looking at me like I was the most colossal fuckwit she had ever come across.

"Where else would I be, Rhodri, you fool?" she said to me, shaking her head. Taking me by the arm, she walked me into the room and sat me on a chair near hers. "Anyone would think I had two children at this point, honestly."

I didn't even argue back, I was so excited. "You're the only pregnant person in Mirkwood," I said quickly.

Bregedúr nodded. "I am," she said.

"If I can be honest," I confessed to her while momentarily sidetracked, "I'm kind of surprised you still wanted to fall pregnant at a time like this."

"Oh, we didn't know at the time," Bregedúr replied with a laugh. "Goodness, we wouldn't have dreamed of having a child had we been informed. The news came the day after, would you believe it?"

"My god, that's terrible timing," I breathed as I put a hand over my mouth to stifle a shocked laugh, scarcely believing how well my theory was lining up.

"Certainly is. I'm afraid we'll just have to weather it as best we can," she said, a tone of concern in her voice before she shook her head and looked up at me. "Why did you come and inform me of my status as Mirkwood's only expectant mother, anyway?"

"Because I think I know the reason you suddenly developed agoraphobia."

She raised her eyebrows. "Tell me."

"I think it's pregnancy hormones."

Bregedúr frowned. "What are hormones?"

Shit. Did they seriously not know what those were? They had thousands of years to learn about how the body worked, and they'd never even… I sighed, wondering how far back I would have to take my explanation. In theory, Elves were probably masters of anything regarding emergency trauma surgery, but since the cure to whatever ailed them was invariably either sailing west or being reborn, I realised I would have to start at a very basic level. God, and it had been millennia since I'd done any relevant anatomy studies.

"Rhodri, are you all right? You look… haunted."

"Oh, I'm quite fine. Just finding the right words," I said before launching into a long-winded lecture about the endocrine and reproductive systems and the levels of hormonal fluctuation that occur during pregnancy. Bregedúr watched me in disbelief as I drew a myriad of sloppy diagrams outlining the various anatomical structures and functions.

"I see," was all she said when I finished up. "So you believe I will return to normal when the baby is born, then?"

"I believe the hormones that make it much worse will definitely return to normal, but I think we should keep working on it all the same so that there are no side-effects afterward. With that said, I imagine knowing it is likely to be transient must be a weight off your mind, no?"

"You have no idea," she murmured, eyes wide as she leaned back in her chair. "Do you think we should try the next phase of therapy now? I know it's a little early, but I feel somewhat... emboldened, I suppose."

I shrugged. "We can if you like, certainly. Give me an update on how you're going first, though. Have you been practicing rationalising those thoughts you get?"

"I have," Bregedúr confirmed. "It was initially hard, but I managed to fall into a routine, and I do understand at least, that those scenarios are not logical, even if they are still confronting to see."

"Excellent," I said with a smile. "That's very encouraging, and such rapid progress, too. So let's do that scenario again where I ask you to come with me downstairs for food. Talk me through what's happening in your head this time."

"My stomach is churning again, and my heart is beating hard, but not as bad as before. I still see myself lying unconscious on the staircase, but it's so unlikely to happen that I can't imagine why it's even occurring to me. It's unpleasant, though."

"You've built a very good routine for yourself when that scenario plays in your head, Bregedúr," I praised her warmly.

"The discomfort is still quite palpable, though," she added quickly. "Will that ever go away?"

"That's precisely what I want to work on today. I'll take you through a couple of relaxation exercises, and if you're feeling up to it, we might even try sitting just outside the door to your chambers, eh?"

Bregedúr looked uneasy, but nodded.

After showing her the same muscle relaxation and breathing exercises I showed Elrond, I asked again if she wanted to go out for a minute or two.

"Just to the front entryway," I said, holding up my hand to reassure her. "What do you say? We can sit there for a bit, practice those relaxation exercises, and do a spot of people watching."

Bregedúr looked like she'd rather pull out her teeth and sell them on eBay, but she consented to give it a try.

I took a chair in one hand and linked her arm in mine as we got up and slowly ambled down the hallway together to the main chamber door.

"How are you doing?" I asked as we stood in front of the closed door.

"My heart is hammering," she panted.

"Are you thinking your logical thoughts?"

"I am."

"Let's do some of that deep breathing, then, eh? In through your nose… and then out through your mouth. In again through the nose… out through the mouth."

I kept that up for a minute or two until Bregedúr nodded that things had levelled off.

"Would you like to open the door, or shall I?" I asked.

"I think I'd better," she replied, stretching a hand out and resting it on the door handle a moment. With one deep breath, Bregedúr pushed the door open and with that, the outside was ours to behold.

"This is frightening," she whispered.

"More breathing is called for, then, I think," I said with a smile. We spent another couple of minutes _in through the nose, out through the mouth_-ing until I could look at her neck and see a calm pulse.

"You're doing so well, Bregedúr. Absolutely outstanding," I said encouragingly. I placed the chair straight outside the door. "Do you think you'd like to try sitting down on the seat there for a little bit?"

Bregedúr, ever the brave one, nodded, took a step outside the door and parked herself down.

"Look at you go!" I beamed at her. "Tell me how you're feeling. Do you want to try doing some more breathing?"

She did, and so we did. Once she had calmed down, we were able to sit out there for a whole quarter hour before she wanted to head back to her study.

"That was amazing," I enthused as she sat back in her armchair. "How are you feeling after that?"

"Quite pleased with myself, actually," she said with a small smile. "It was quite tiring, though. It felt a little like the fear kept trying to sneak up on me, and I had to use a lot of effort to keep it at bay."

"Yes, it will feel that way for a while yet. Your mind has paired fright with being outside, so we need to re-train it to associate the world outside your chambers with neutrality again. It doesn't happen overnight, like I said before, but you're already making incredible progress. And so rapid, too!"

I didn't tell her, but I'd never had a client with severe agoraphobia make such progress so quickly. I was absolutely blown away by it, and supposed that such a quick recovery- which seemed to have occurred in most of my Middle-Earth clients- was a hallmark of the hardiness of the Elf. Apparently it was a mental feature, too. Incredible.

The next week saw us spend a little longer each day sitting outside the door, and we managed to build it up to an hour and a half before we succumbed to boredom and slunk back inside. After that, we worked up to walking the halls a short way, which we worked on until we were able to make the entire loop around, which was a goodly distance that took another two weeks of calm breathing and large doses of courage to work up to.

The biggest challenge was the stairs, and that ended up taking the lion's share of the time to work with. Many days were spent sitting on the stairs, making it a calm environment by having small picnics, reading books, and constant gasbagging. When she felt ready, we climbed one stair, and then came back down, and that was our focus for another two days. Two stairs, three stairs, four stairs, then five stairs came next, and that ate up another week and a half.

Bregedúr didn't end up feeling confident to take the stairs by herself until two months had passed, by when she got there, my golly she was pleased with herself.

"I can't believe this," she whispered to me as we stood by the dining hall on the floor below.

"You've done so wonderfully," I beamed at her. "Do you think you want to go inside and have something to eat?"

"I believe I do, yes," Bregedúr replied with a smile.

"We should eat your favourite food as a celebration. Is it still fried bread and honey?"

She confirmed that it certainly was, and with that, we went inside and crammed ourselves full of the stuff.

Another period passed in which I made sure that all of the worrying situations were handled- riding in a carriage, going into a library, wide open spaces, the whole shebang. By the time we were done, she was just about ready to pop with this baby.

And, as it happened, she _did _pop not too long after that. Glorfindel and I spent hours pacing a track in the ground outside the hospital wing, waiting for this infant to finally make itself known. When it _finally _did, we popped inside after Thranduil had visited, and saw a very chuffed-looking set of new parents holding a baby. She had a shock of blonde hair and minuscule but pointy ears. Well, everything about this child was minuscule. She _was_ an infant, after all.

"Ooh, aren't you a delight!" my thrilled spouse sang at her when she was passed to him. "What will her name be, then?"

"Daereth, I think," replied Legolas with a smile.

"Marvellous," he enthused, passing baby Daereth to me.

"Hello, there, sprout," I greeted her happily. "So good of you to show up. Nice name, by the way."

Daereth didn't say anything. She fell asleep. That was definitely preferable to screaming, so I took it as a compliment.

After fondly taking our leave from our buddies, Glorfindel and I were back on the road again the next day. We thought it best to go straight after meeting the baby so as to give the new parents time to settle in with their living, breathing alarm clock without interruption. And, to be truthful, we were sort of starting to miss hearing Elrond tell us off for engaging in extreme sports on his property.


	50. Surprises of all types and sizes

Author's note: Holy dooley! I've bashed out 50 of these now! If you've read this far, I really appreciate that you've looked past the fact that I have been terribly impulsive and essentially thrown 50 first drafts at you. There's basically no editing in here to speak of, so thanks for not getting too hung up on any orthographical errors. At some point, I'll probably take the time to go back and make these things a bit more presentable. In the meantime, though, let the happy accidents continue!

§

At the risk of sounding like I harbour a major cognitive bias about this, I found it incredibly odd the way things always seemed to chug along pleasantly, and then when one thing disrupts the luxurious uneventfulness, a number of other shock twists would come out of the woodwork in sympathy. Keeps things interesting, I suppose, but I must say, if life were a buffet, I would have very keenly walked past this particular dish.

Elrond had been jumpy as hell after detecting that his foster son was going googly-eyed over his very treasured, very at risk of mortality daughter. He was by no means a domineering father to any of his children- always discussing, never commanding. That was probably why Arwen, who like her brothers possessed her mother's stubbornness, so willingly went to Lothlórien when he asked her to. He was relieved. Horrible though it was to think it, Aragorn would inevitably marry or die of old age, and whichever of the two came first didn't matter, as long as one of them did before he could somehow convince Arwen to get hitched with him.

Elrond's scheme to hide one from the other appeared to be working, and over the course of some 25 years, he finally appeared to be relaxing a little. Well, at least by the post-Celebrían's-attack standards we'd come to set for him, which was a very low bar. Still, though, he brooded less during Happy Hour. He laughed a little more. He even ate more food. Relatively speaking, things were looking up.

But then, of course, as the malaphor goes, even the best laid plans go to hell in a handbasket. We were informed of just how badly his idea had gone wrong on this one particular Happy Hour in the middle of spring.

"That idea you had of trying certain wines at particular times of the year was a stroke of genius, Elrond," I said to him as I stared at the sunset through my glass of sparkling white wine.

Glorfindel nodded in agreement, adding, "You could show Thranduil a thing or two about wine pairing, I think. Perhaps you should write a book and send him a copy."

Elrond laughed and rolled his eyes. "You flatter me," he said affably. "Not that I am complaining about it, of co-"

He was cut short as a certain favourite daughter of his seemed to materialise on the balcony, giving us one of her trademark cheeky smiles.

"Arwen!" he exclaimed, immediately standing and planting a kiss on her cheek as she threw her arms around him. Glorfindel and I both rose as well for similar happy greetings, but as I got up, I couldn't help but notice something shiny sitting on her left index finger. It was a silver ring that had two serpents entwined, their eyes encrusted with emeralds. I could have sworn I'd seen that ring before somewhere, but I couldn't put my finger on where exactly it had come to my attention.

Quickly dismissing it, Glorfindel and I rose and gave her an affectionate dual hug, after which she pulled up a seat and stole her father's wine.

"What prompts your sudden return, Undómiel?" Elrond asked his daughter, happily allowing her to take his hand in hers.

She beamed and lifted the hand she'd used to annexe his until it was level with his eyes. As soon as his eyes landed on the ring, Elrond blanched and looked like he was about to keel over.

This was apparently not the reaction Arwen had been anticipating, and she looked worried and hurt as he remained motion- and speechless, his lips pursed and face getting whiter by the second.

Glorfindel and I glanced at each other and nodded.

"Miruvor, I think," I said decisively, standing up quickly and heading inside to fetch the bottle and a tumbler. Upon returning, I poured Elrond a goodly dose. Glorfindel took Elrond's free hand and moulded his fingers cautiously around the body of the cup and guided it up to his lips. The prompt seemed to work, and Elrond drank deeply before setting the glass down unassisted, a small flush of colour returning to his cheeks again but his face as blank as ever.

"Is that the Ring of Barahir?" I asked, suddenly remembering that I had once seen a similar ring glittering on Aragorn's finger.

Arwen nodded. "It is," she replied softly. "I met Aragorn again while I was in Lothlórien. He came to rest awhile, and we ran into each other in the forest there."

She paused for a moment, the silence on Elrond's part still looming. "I was afraid this might happen," she said a little sadly as she watched her father, trapped in his numb shock.

Glorfindel gripped my hand tightly, and I squeezed back. We both felt terribly helpless as we watched our best friend's heart get torn asunder yet again. He was getting dealt one horrific blow after another, and this was the newest one to eat him alive.

"Perhaps I'll come back later," Arwen said with a tiny sigh, and she made to get up, but Elrond gently put a hand across her to keep her seated. Confused, she obliged and watched him.

Thinking it was Glorfindel's and my cue to depart so that they could discuss the matter in earnest, said spouse and I made a similar action.

"We might give you two some time to yourselves," I proposed, rising to my feet, but Elrond's other free hand went across Glorfindel and me as it had with Arwen. He didn't look at us and wouldn't move his hand away.

Sharing another glance, Glorfindel and I parked ourselves again, after which Elrond slowly retracted his arm.

_"I think Elrond wants us to try and talk Arwen out of this," _Glorfindel said to me in his head.

_"This isn't going to end well,"_ I answered worriedly.

"_Should we at least try? For his sake?"_

I absent-mindedly stroked his hand with my thumb as I tried to find the right words to start us off.

"That's… a very big commitment you're making there, sprout," I said to Arwen carefully, struggling to meet her eyes.

Arwen looked up at me, looking stung by my doubt.

"Oh, honeybun, look, I said quickly, going over to my niece and squatting beside her chair. "There's absolutely nothing in this world any of us want more than your happiness. You and your brothers are our heart's delight, you know that."

"But…?" she returned, gently arching an eyebrow at me as she appeared to bite back the urge to cry.

"Well, life with Aragorn will not be anything like what you have now," Glorfindel stepped in, putting an arm around Elrond as he did. "The wife of a Man, even the King's wife, is not treated as his equal, for a start. That's quite a step down from your life among your people as it currently stands. And, well, there are other consequences that are much more far-reaching in marrying him…" he trailed off, not daring to finish the sentence.

"It might be well," I continued, "to take a little more time to really think about this. Wait for your feelings to settle a little and write it down as though you were laying out the positives and negatives for someone else. Force yourself to be as dispassionate about this as you possibly can be."

Arwen looked crestfallen at our words but accepted them with her father's calm graciousness. This time, when she made to stand, Elrond didn't stop her. "I think I need a walk," she said to nobody in particular and went inside, a soft sniffle coming from her as she closed the door behind her.

Left alone again, I took my seat beside Glorfindel again, giving him a gentle nudge.

"_Try giving him some more miruvor, maybe."_ I jerked my head gently in the direction of the half-empty glass.

Glorfindel nodded, picked up the glass and carefully brought it up to Elrond's lips again. "Take another sip for us, Elrond. That's the way," he encouraged as Elrond slowly started to drink. After a few mouthfuls, something in his face stirred and he finally showed a hint of an emotion. His brow creased like he was in physical pain, but still he said nothing.

We sat together in that heavy silence until long after the dinner bell had rung. He was still barely moving, and his expression had hardly changed.

"Elrond," I said, sounding like I was a nurse, "do you think you'll eat something tonight?"

His turbulent blue eyes flicked onto me for a second and then away again, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Hardly surprising; he was in no fit state to do anything, really.

"You need rest, then," I said firmly. "You've had a huge shock, and you need an early night. Glorfindel's going to take you to your room and help you get ready for bed, and I'll come in in a few minutes with something to help you sleep."

Glorfindel nodded and helped Elrond out of his seat. Together, they shambled off in the direction of his chambers, and I made my way to the hospital wing to hunt up a sedative. After a quick browse, I found a little of the shimmering, purple elixir that Elrond had given Celebrían to put her into a deep, dreamless sleep. Pocketing it, a measuring spoon, and a glass, I strolled up to Elrond's quarters and knocked on the door. Glorfindel let me in, and I found Elrond sitting in his room, in an armchair by the window. I dosed the glass with three spoonfuls and took it over to him.

"Here you go, mate. Drink this up and that'll put you off to sleep for the night." I held the glass up to his lips and eventually, the tincture disappeared. Glorfindel, who was standing on his other side, carefully put an arm across his chest to support him as he started to slump forward. In one gradual but fluid motion, he scooped a now-unconscious Elrond out of the chair and into his arms. I went ahead and pulled the blankets back on his bed, Glorfindel placed him on the mattress, and I draped them over him.

With a shared sigh, we departed the room. In the hallway, I put an arm around Glorfindel's waist as we walked. "Time for some food, do you think?"

"Mmm, I suppose so. I'm not quite sure what to do about anything at the moment," he replied heavily, slipping an arm around me.

Minutes later, we were sitting with a small plate of cooked vegetables on the abandoned stargazing deck.

"I've never seen him like that before," Glorfindel murmured as he speared a piece of sweet potato and gingerly put it in his mouth. "With all the other horrible things that happened to him, he displayed a lot of emotion- among trusted people, anyway. But he was simply… empty this time."

"I believe we have just witnessed Elrond at breaking point," I said calmly as I leaned back on my hands and gazed up at the stars.

"He would have been anticipating something like this could happen, though," Glorfindel mused.

"I don't doubt it haunted his thoughts, but if I can make a guess, I think he constantly found reassurance in thinking he'd done the right thing sending Arwen off to Lothlórien. He must've started to believe it was true, too, and then she comes back with Aragorn's ring on her finger," I answered sadly.

Glorfindel sighed, and a silence followed as we picked away at our food and monitored the heavens.

"Will he die if she does this?" Glorfindel asked after a while. It was a legitimate question. What level of suffering could an Elf experience before the fëa evacuated the body for Mandos? I didn't like to think of it, but on a hunch, I worried that Elrond could get alarmingly close to that point if things carried on like they were.

I glanced over to see him regarding me fearfully and looked away again reflexively, terrified to see his face when I told him what I thought.

"Rhodri?" he prompted me after a moment, his voice a little unsteady now. I forced myself to look at him.

"I'm not certain, my darling," I confessed, putting a hand on his. "But to be honest with you, I do think there's a very real chance it might be too much for him."

Glorfindel looked stricken. He rested his head in his hand, saying nothing as he watched out over the forest.

"Hey," I said gently, holding out a hand to him. "Come here."

Glorfindel nodded, wiped a tear away, and shuffled over until he was leaning back on me. He took my arms and wrapped them across his chest.

"I don't think there's much we can do to change the course of this, beloved," I murmured into his ear. "But I do think we can make a difference in how Elrond and Arwen manage whatever becomes of this choice. Let's just wait to see what happens, and in the meantime we'll just support them, especially Elrond, as best we can, hm?"

I heard a loud rustle as Glorfindel nodded, his hair rubbing against my ears.

"Shall we have an early night, too?" he asked quietly.

"Marvellous idea. This day can't finish quick enough," I replied, picking up our plates as we headed downstairs.

By the next day, Elrond seemed to have regained his ability to speak and move independently, which was of huge relief to us. He declined to speak on the matter further with Arwen for a while, making the atmosphere rather tense. It wasn't brought up with Glorfindel or me, either, and so we left it be, knowing he would give some indication of wanting us to dig if the need arose.

As the summer rolled around, Glorfindel and I went camping in pursuit of wide open spaces and, since Elrond turned down our invitation to join, the freedom to try a myriad of risky activities without evoking our friend's panic.

When we returned, sun-kissed and jovial, we were informed by Elrond that Aragorn had come and gone in our absence, during which time Elrond set him a near-impossible condition for his daughter's hand in marriage. It was what we had expected Aragorn to attempt anyway, but now it seemed like there was no real room for failure: unite the Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor and rule over them both as the king. Elrond was coping with this remarkably well. I hoped he wasn't setting too much hope in Aragorn failing so he could whisk Arwen off to the Undying Lands before Aragorn could get another word in. What if he succeeded, after all?

§

The years passed by and we saw nothing of Aragorn. To be fair, the fellow had been given an absolutely colossal task by his prospective father-in-law, so he must have been running around like a blue-arsed flying trying to get this all together so he could snag that dream girl.

It was during this particular lull in my nephew's visitations that another Man had come to Imladris. I was made aware of this when there came a knock at my door. I looked up and saw Elrond with a rather tall, sandy-haired chap who couldn't have been more than 20. He had an unmistakable nobility of bearing despite the fact he looked a bit like a high school jock in LARPing gear, and politely touched his hand to his heart as I invited them inside, pouring them each a glass of water.

"Hello, there," I said with a smile. Mr. Tall, LARP and flaxen returned my smile with shy courtesy.

"Good afternoon, my Lady," he returned with a nod. "I am Boromir, Steward of Gondor."

"Lovely to meet you, Boromir! Oh, and please, call me Rhodri. Everybody does." I chuckled a little before sighing cheerfully. "Gee, it's nice to have visitors! What's the news?"

"Well, Rhodri, Boromir has come to Imladris specifically to see you, as a matter of fact," Elrond informed me. He drained his glass and rose from his seat. "I'll leave you two to discuss matters in private," was all he said before waving and departing.

"Goodness, I feel flattered to have someone coming all the way from Gondor just to say hello," I said to Boromir with a smile. "Such a long journey you've made. Would you like some orange cake?"

"I- orange cake, you say?" He looked at me with interest.

"Oh, yes," I replied. I produced a colossal slice of orange cake that I had been saving for afternoon tea, and then opened another drawer behind me and dug out a spare plate, knife, and fork. Cutting the cake into two even bits, I passed one piece to Boromir and kept the other for myself.

"Here's your fork," I handed him one. "So tell me what's happening."

"Thank you very much," he said as he took it and ate a mouthful. "I have come for- my goodness, this cake is delicious."

"I'll be sure to pass your feedback on to Singlis. She'll be so pleased to hear that," I said happily.

"I would appreciate that. Ahem, my apologies for my sudden departure from the topic. I will return to the matter at hand. My Lady- ah, Rhodri, I have come to ask for your assistance on behalf of my father."

"Oh, yes?"

"Well, perhaps more accurately, since he does not know that I am here, I ask for assistance to be given to my father."

"I'll gladly give it a try," I nodded. "What can I do to help?"

"I have heard from other visitors to Gondor that you are skilled in your counsel of matters of the mind," he began, then pausing as he looked to me for confirmation.

"Problem-solving in that particular area does describe my career pretty well, yes," I confirmed.

Boromir nodded. "In which case, I would like, if I may, to take a little of your time to tell you concerns I have about my father. I would appreciate it greatly if you could inform me if you think this is something you might be able to assist in."

"Certainly. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to take notes as we talk so that I can be sure I have all the information to hand that I need to answer your question."

"Of course."

I rummaged in my desk for a piece of spare paper and, pen at the ready, I awaited the deets.

As if he had rehearsed this in his head several times, Boromir launched into his tale.

"My father was- well, I suppose is a good man. But we have not seen much of his good side this last decade. He was a kind and loving father, and was an excellent Steward, fair and just. He changed when my mother, Finduilas, died. I was ten at the time, my brother Faramir was five."

"I did hear about Finduilas' death," I said heavily. "I am very sorry for your loss. That must have been devastating."

"It was," Boromir replied sadly. "Especially so for my father, I think, because he changed so radically after that. He became bitter and eccentric, conditions which worsen by the day. He has long shown huge favour to me at the expense of my brother, and he hides himself away most of the day, doing things I have not been permitted to learn of. All told, my father gives an outward impression of being able to rule, but in my heart, I doubt it."

"I see," I said after I had finished writing. "Are you hoping that I might be able to speak with your father and see if there is any help I can give him in attaining some sort of recovery with his eccentricity and bitterness?"

"Indeed yes, madam, if it is agreeable to you," Boromir said, taking another mouthful of cake.

"Well, I would be happy to give it a try, though I must tell you that for me to be able to assist him, one of two things would have to happen." I held up two fingers.

"Oh?"

"Indeed. Either he must decide to give consent to being examined by me," I counted one, "or he must be declared mentally unfit to make that decision on his own by one of your healers or lawmakers." Up came finger the number two. "Do you think that either of those are likely to occur?"

Boromir sat quietly for a moment, and I seized the opportunity to have some cake of my own as he did.  
"To be truthful, Rhodri, I am unsure as to what he would think," he admitted. "He is a very proud sort, and I cannot be certain that he would readily accept help. I don't believe there is a practitioner in the kingdom who would be inclined to declare him unfit to make decisions, either. All the same, though, if you could find it in your heart to try anyway, I would appreciate it more than I can express."

His expression was fairly equanimous, but looking into his shale grey eyes, I saw such intense sadness there that far beyond what one should find in a 20-year-old. I was moved to agree before I'd even thought about it.

"Sure thing," I blurted out, plastering a smile on my face and nodding.

"You will?" he said, a smile now lighting up his own features.

"Absolutely. Though if I may, I would like to ask that my husband be permitted to come with me to your kingdom. He need not know it's to speak with your father, of course."

"Certainly, madam," he replied. "In which case, if it is agreeable to you, perhaps we could depart quite soon."

"Tomorrow morning, maybe, so you have some time to rest and get fed and watered?"

Boromir nodded. "Thank you, Rhodri. I sincerely appreciate your kind offer."

"Not a problem, mate. I hope I can be of help to you. Now, let's get you some proper lunch, eh? I'm sure that cake didn't fill you up much."

He smiled gratefully, and I dropped him off at the dining room to refuel, excusing myself to make the proper arrangements for departure.

"Elrond, I'm going away for a while," I said to him. He knew perfectly well why I was off; Boromir would have told him already. "Heading off tomorrow. I'm sorry that it's so sudden, but you'll just have to make the best of it and trampoline by yourself until I get back."

"Tr-what?" Elrond exclaimed, looking up from the map he had spread out on his desk.

"Oh, please, Elrond," I dismissed, waving a hand. "Do I look like a fool to you? As if I didn't know you wait until the others go to bed to use the trampoline at night. I can hear the branches creaking as I fall asleep."

"I do no such thing!" he spluttered indignantly. "It's probably Erestor."

"And yet," I said softly, bending down until I was at eye level with him. "Your cheeks are as pink as a sunset."

His eyes widened and he put his hands on his cheeks. Laughing now, I clapped him on the shoulder, straightened up, and made for the door. "Happy jumping, Elrond! See you when I get back. Don't miss me too much, now!"

"Safe travels, Rhodri," he muttered, cursing under his breath as he returned to his work.

Now that I'd been given a leave of absence from work, I made for Glorfindel, who I found alone in his study. I knocked on the open door and Glorfindel, seated at his desk, turned around and beamed at me.  
"Rhodri, hello! What a pleasant surprise," he greeted me happily.

"Tell me, my love, are you available?" I asked, walking over to him and putting my hands on his shoulders.

"Ooh!" he squeaked in delighted surprise as he turned to face me, his eyes wide. "Rhodri, how devilish of you!" he whispered in amusement. "We should at least close the door first, my love," he said, looking around the room furtively.

"Oh!" I said when I realised he had misunderstood me, feeling a stirring in my belly as I watched his eyes sparkle so temptingly. "Ah, it's for a bit of a longer arrangement than what you're thinking."

"I can go all afternoon if it pleases you," he murmured, biting his lip just a little.

I caught myself getting the temptation to cancel on poor Boromir so I could snatch my spouse up in my arms, bolt to our chambers, and lock us away there for the foreseeable future. Distracted by such an alluring prospect, I found it hard to explain the purpose of my visit as well as I wanted.

"Ah, this arrangement would likely need a number of months, beloved," I clarified.

Glorfindel's eyebrows shot up. "My goodness, beloved," he breathed. "I don't think either of us could manage that long without some breaks. Let us try the first afternoon and take it from there as needed, hmm?"

Oh, god. This wasn't helpful. My heart was starting to pound now

"Give me half a minute," I asked of him, taking the opportunity to clear my head as I walked to the door and closed it. When I came back over to him, I made a point of not making eye contact, lest my composure be unravelled again.

"Right," I said quickly, taking a deep breath. "There has been a bit of a misunderstanding, so let me just enlighten you: Boromir of Gondor has asked me to travel to Gondor to potentially administer psychological help to a resident there, leaving tomorrow. Would you be interested in coming along?"

"Ah," Glorfindel said. "I understand now. Gondor, you say! Ooh, yes! I shall speak to Elrond about any diplomatic business that I could handle on his behalf while I'm there. How exciting!" he enthused.

"Excellent," I said with a grin. "This is going to be fun."

The matter resolved at last, I dared to let myself look at him again, which was a mistake of epic proportions. His eyes were shimmering even brighter than before as he traced a finger up my back, making me shiver a little.

"What about that other arrangement for this afternoon, then?" he said softly.

"You're free all afternoon, you say?" I murmured, letting him take me into his lap.

"As long as you want, my love," he replied, making to let his lips brush against mine but getting the shock of his life as I grabbed him by the hands and sprinted us both to the door.

"R-Rhodri, where are we going?" he asked in confusion as he practically flapped about in the air like a wind sock.

"Our bedroom," I said breathlessly. "Can't possibly do all the things I've got in mind without a bed."


	51. A rocky start

**Author's note:** Aww, you folks made my day with your well-wishes for chapter 50! Thanks so much :D Sip on your water, look at something pleasant, and be nice to yourselves!  
Kathleen: Not super much is really said about Glorfindel in books, except that he's hugely powerful, brave, selfless, and has a 'joyful' face. And that he was very well-loved by the folks in Gondolin. An all-round good egg it would seem, both in Tolkien's works and in my own interpretation. I don't think he's happy all the time, though. That isn't especially healthy. I'd say he's inclined to optimism but he cries too often to be called Mr. Nonstop Happy. What could, perhaps, be said for him is that he is well-adjusted and happy to express emotions of all natures as needed. That's about as much as any of us can strive for, really.  
§

The ride to Minas Tirith was long but pleasant. I hadn't ever been this far south before (with the exception of when I first arrived, of course), and it was fascinating to watch the landscape gradually change. The north was almost eternally lush and green, the sort of place you'd find featured on a Swiss postcard. Here, though, the plants and trees were of a more yellowish hue, reflective of the region's sparser rains and much hotter summers. Not that it wasn't fertile here, of course. This was wine and grains country, and there was an abundance of both, among many other crops.

I felt a fullness when I looked out at the vast swathes of wheat bending in the breeze, or the fat cattle that grazed contentedly in the fields. Even if things went to hell in other aspects, I could at least content myself with the knowledge that we could expect a good deal of wheat coming our way by Christmas. I don't encourage comfort eating as a full-time coping strategy, but all the same, I'd rather cry with a piece of cake in my hand than without.

Boromir was a lovely travelling companion. Always attentive and courteous, he had an incredible ability to read the room (we'll ignore the fact we were nowhere near an actual room for now, if you please). He never spoke too much, nor was he overly reserved. Whatever he did say was thoughtful and interesting, and never in poor taste.

It was also apparent from early on that Boromir was deeply fond of his brother and took his role in the running of the Kingdom very seriously. With the information I had gleaned about his father, it seemed that Boromir had the exact opposite character to him, not that Boromir ever spoke hatefully about him. Facts about Denethor were relayed without a hint of vitriol, despite the sadness and hurt it had obviously inflicted. I couldn't help but be terribly impressed with him.

All told, the journey south took two months, and my god, the sight of Minas Tirith was worth every minute of it. The city itself sat in front of a mountain, and it looked like someone (or many someones) had taken one single, massive block of white marble and carved it into a fortress that glowed radiantly in the gentle morning sunlight. A passing breeze rippled the banners that dotted the huge walls here and there, and I could hear bells ringing from somewhere within this splendid labyrinth.

When I glanced over at Boromir as we rode up to this colossus, a happy look passed over his face that warmed my cockles. He really loved being where he lived- not in an overly patriotic way, but rather with an appreciation for the beauty and sentimental value of it.

Arriving at the front gate, the four guards monitoring it looked genuinely pleased to see Boromir and bowed to him respectfully.

"Welcome back, my Lord," the tallest one said.

"Good morning," Boromir replied with a smile. "Finishing the evening watch, are we?"

"Indeed," he answered with a laugh. "The time for rest draws near, I think."

"Never near enough, though," Boromir answered, laughing as well.

It was nice to see a figure of authority make friendly, meaningful rapport with lower-ranking people. I found that to be a good sign of his capabilities as a compassionate and wise leader. That sort of treatment seemed to continue right up until we got to Denethor's throne room, which was a very promising indicator. The warm greetings and small talk from civilians and children to high-ranking officials made it clear that Boromir was a very well-loved figure here.

As we stood outside the imposing throne room, I felt uneasy. How was this actually supposed to proceed? Usually my role as a psychologist was very well defined: people came to me, asked for help, got it. If they were brought to me by a concerned person, I would assess them to see if they fit the legal definition of being capable of making decisions, and go from there. This ambiguous business didn't sit well with me at all.

Still, though, I supposed it was too late to fake an illness or preemptively announce my retirement and speed on back to Rivendell, because the huge oak doors opened and we went inside.

I must have been on autopilot the entire walk down this long atrium to get to Denethor's throne, because I had no idea how I got there when we eventually reached this guy.

At first glance, you could hardly see the resemblance between Denethor and his son. They had nothing in common at all. When I looked a little closer, though, I realised my mistake: they looked so dissimilar because they were the opposites of each other in bearing and expression, but in reality, their features were very alike indeed. Unlike Boromir, who was inherently approachable, Denethor radiated coldness and lability, and without even having spoken to him, I instantly felt like I was walking on eggshells in his presence. He squinted at Glorfindel and me in a vaguely hostile manner, and when his gaze went to his son, it barely softened.

"Where have you been, my son?" Denethor asked as we got within talking distance.

"Father, I have been riding in the north, seeking news from Lord Elrond of Rivendell," Boromir answered, bowing shortly before walking up the few steps to embrace him. "I bring with me two delegates of Elrond: Lord Glorfindel and Lady Rhodri."

Glorfindel and I inclined our heads and touched our hands to our hearts at the mention.  
"We very much appreciate your hospitality, Lord Denethor, and are delighted to return to Gondor after so many years," Glorfindel said in his most noble and powerful-sounding voice. Denethor, appearing satisfied, nodded back at us.

When we were dismissed, Boromir showed us to our room.  
"I will leave you to refresh yourselves a little before breakfast, which should be ready in about an hour," he said to the two of us with a smile. "The dining hall is downstairs and to the right. I will see you down there, but in the meantime, can you think of anything you need to make your time here more comfortable?"

I looked around. The room we had been given was princely, with a large bed and commode, a writing-desk and two chairs, and had a balcony that commanded one hell of a view over the fields. I could have sworn I could see out to Osgiliath from there.  
"I think you could take half the things out of this room and we'd still have everything we needed," I said to Boromir with a laugh. "Thank you, though; you're a most gracious host, Boromir."

Boromir smiled, nodded once, and with that, Glorfindel and I were left alone.

"Denethor seemed a little…" Glorfindel began to say, trailing off mid-sentence as he pursed his lips in concern.

"Mm, I know what you mean," I answered, chewing my lip absent-mindedly. "Still, I suppose, we're here on official business. Our happiness here isn't contingent on his warmth. Thank god for that, too, otherwise we'd be miserable as a couple of wet hens."

Eyes wide, he nodded in agreement, and we left it at that. What else was there to say?

After we'd tidied up a little and put on some fresh clothes, we headed out to the dining hall.

The navigation instructions Boromir had given us to reach said hall, as it turned out, were unneeded. As soon as we stepped outside of our room, we seemed to get hit with the delicious smell of cooking food. Well, delicious in _my _opinion, at least. Glorfindel seemed a little more sceptical, squinting in confusion as though he were smelling something that ought not to be even cooked, much less eaten.

He didn't have long to stand like that, though, because I had started following the Trail of Tasty, dragging Glorfindel behind me as I did the walking for both of us.

In the hall, I bustled over to the table to see what was for eats, and I felt my little British heart sob with joy at what I clapped my eyes on. The tables were burgeoning with sausages, toast, eggs cooked four ways, fried potatoes, and- and-

"_Baked beans," _I gasped as I covered my mouth and looked at the huge serving bowl, filled to the brim with the dish of my soul and most favourite food. I'd never tried to make it in Imladris, because I was too terrified of the crushing disappointment that would ensue if it didn't taste the same as what I was used to. But here, they were already made. They looked the same, and when I got a whiff of them, they certainly smelled identical.

"Rhodri, are you crying?" Glorfindel asked in shock, putting a hand on my shoulder in deep concern.

It was at that exact moment that Boromir turned up, and when he saw me clutching my chest and making eyes at this bowl of beans like I was about to say my wedding vows to it, he asked worriedly if there was something wrong.  
"I'm fine, thanks," I squeaked at the both of them, drying my eye on my sleeve. "I just love beans."

Boromir's mouth opened slightly, and he looked at Glorfindel with a mixture of confusion, alarm, and disturbedness on his face.

Without another word, I sat down and helped myself to some beans and a piece of toast. I spooned some beans onto my toast and took a bite, and my _god. _Miracle of miracles, they tasted exactly the same. The joy was intense. I didn't speak again until I'd cleared my plate, after which I looked up contritely at Boromir.

"I do apologise for that short departure from character there, Lord Boromir," I said in my professional voice. "It's my favourite food, and I haven't even seen it in some five thousand years. These beans," I gestured at the serving bowl, feeling the emotion well up in me again, "are a _triumph." _

Bewildered but pleased, Boromir smiled and nodded. "You will be glad to know, then, that they are a staple here."

"Lord have mercy."

This pleasant news somehow led to me putting away two more helpings of the meal of earthly delights. In theory, I could have consumed the entire serving bowl without any ill effects, but it seemed so unwise. How would I explain it? How would I look into the eyes of someone who had wanted beans for breakfast after that? No, it couldn't be done.

Glorfindel, unfortunately, had a little more trouble finding something that was to his liking, but even he had a breakthrough discovery upon trying lime marmalade on his toast. Four slices later, he was also ready to start the day.

When Boromir was similarly sated (his dish of choice was a huge fry-up), we all stood up and Boromir took Glorfindel and me on a short stroll around, both to help us get our bearings and also to drop Glorfindel off at what was to be the first of several all-day discussions to outline the next decade's defence plans.

When Glorfindel had been received by some important-looking guy in velvet, Boromir and I continued on our stroll. Upon my request that we go somewhere to talk without risk of being overheard, Boromir led me to a comfortable, bright office with some deliciously squashy armchairs.

"So tell me, Boromir, how are we supposed to go about this whole thing?" I asked him as I slipped off my backpack and sank into one of these marshmallowy delights. "Your father was not aware that you had travelled to Imladris and you did not tell him the _entire_ truth about your visit. I imagine he is also yet to be enlightened as to the help you would like him to accept from me."

"Indeed," he said with a sigh, furrowing his brow as he tapped his fingers on his armrest.

"Have you ever spoken to him about your concerns for his well being?"

"I… attempted to on one occasion, and it did not end very harmoniously," Boromir replied, grimacing a little. "He became quite angry, and the matter was never raised again."

I nodded and scratched my chin thoughtfully. "Well, if you like, I can fill him in with news from Imladris and bring the topic around your concerns for him, see if he's willing to do something, and we'll take it from there, eh? What do you think?"

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Boromir said with a smile. "Come, I can take you there now, if you like. He is at his most approachable after breakfast."

I glanced at Boromir as I rose all too soon from my splendid chair. "Is that a good deal more than how he was before breakfast?"

"Not especially," Boromir admitted, also getting up, "But enough that I notice."

My heart sank for this poor kid. And he was the favourite! I shuddered to think of how this bloke must have been treating the 15-year-old Faramir.

"Listen, he's going to want to know how I know all this if I bring up any concerns, so can I mention our discussion in Rivendell, or should we sit back down a moment and make a plausible story?"  
"Oh, I think you can just mention that I said something to you," Boromir said. "A benefit of being the favourite son, I suppose, is that I am quickly forgiven."

I shrugged and nodded, and with that, we made our way back to the throne room. I didn't like having to walk such a long way upon entering. It was so eerily like those moments where a friend approaches you from a distance but they're too far away to converse with, so for those awkward two minutes, you're smiling and not breaking eye contact. Except, of course, that Denethor was not a friend of mine, and instead spent the painful two minutes of walking time glaring at me suspiciously.

I decided to let Boromir butter him up so that he'd be willing to sit and chat with me for longer than a handful of sentences, using the opportunity to make myself look as friendly and chill as possible.

I was so caught up in monitoring my ostensible state of calmness that I zoned out and only snapped back into it when Boromir nodded at me and departed.

Denethor stood up and beckoned that I follow him. He walked down the few steps leading to his throne and crossed the room, opening a door and waving me through as he closed it behind him. It looked like the same sort of set-up Oropher had had in his halls, a separate room for audiences with visitors. This room was similarly well-appointed, perhaps even more opulent than the one in the former Amon Lanc. Chairs and couches with velvet upholstery (what _was _it with these people and velvet?) were tastefully arranged atop a huge woven carpet, and the arched stone windows had curtains of a rich red hue pinned up to let the light in.

When Denethor invited me to sit, we began, albeit a little clumsily, a conversation during which I brought him up to speed on what was what in Imladris, carefully avoiding any mention of Sauron-related woes.

"And in interesting medical news, a wild flower has been discovered on the outskirts of Imladris, the seed pulp of which has proved an excellent unguent for burn injuries," I summarised, having dredged up every piece of news I could possibly think of. "I believe Lord Glorfindel will be engaging in some battlefield medical trade deals with your gentlemen later today centred around that particular plant."

Denethor nodded, but didn't appear to have taken all of it in. "Tell me, Lady Rhodri, what prompted Lord Elrond to send you to my kingdom to deliver these messages? From what I have heard about you, your profession has little to do with relaying current affairs."

"What _have_ you heard about my job, Lord Denethor?" I asked, quietly smug that the topic had veered around to this without any effort on my part.

"You advise on matters of the head," he said confidently.

"That's a part of it, yes," I acknowledged. "I also research about behaviour and illness of the head so that I can get a better understanding of what diseases affect which population and how."

"Diseases of the head?" Denethor said sceptically, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes, certainly," I replied with a nod. "There's a huge array of mind disorders that require expert knowledge to diagnose and treat."

"I see," he said, his tone no less mistrustful than before.

"It's amazing how many are actually affected by such issues," I continued, pressing a little further. "I have treated everybody from the poorest of the poor to very wealthy monarchs, many of whom were not even aware there was an issue to begin with."

Denethor frowned a little now. "Have you come to my kingdom to proselytise to me about your magical healing powers?"

"I'm not in the business of proselytism," I replied calmly, "and it's been some five thousand years since I was paid for my work, so you can be sure that I have nothing to gain financially from finding more people to treat."

"And yet here you are," he murmured, not taking his hard, grey eyes off me as the furrow in his brow deepened.

"Well, for a start, I have a dual role in that I am one of Lord Elrond's top advisors, and the resident psychologist," I explained patiently, "But if you think I am here in my role as a psychologist as well, you would be correct."

"Explain yourself, then," Denethor demanded. "Do you imply I am not fit in my mind? Not clever enough, not _sane _enough, perhaps?"

"I do not care for those sorts of flawed metrics," I replied gravely. "I was asked to come to Gondor by Boromir, as a matter of fact."

Denethor looked at me like he was itching to give me a clout, but contented himself with asking for an elaboration.

"Your son is worried for you, Lord Denethor," I said with a sigh. "He fears that you have been unhappy for a long time, and that it is impacting how well you live and enjoy your life." I made sure to steer away from mentions of being erratic or potentially bad at parenting and ruling, as I was sure that it would be considered extreme provocation and dealt with accordingly.

"My son is a fool, and so are you," Denethor snapped. "He, because he fell for your clever scheme, and you because you think you can control my mind to relinquish my kingdom to your Lord Elrond!"

I raised an eyebrow, and Denethor grew angrier. "Do not think I am unaware of your plots, Rhodri of Imladris! I know Elrond would have you completely unseat me, but be assured that I will not be dethroned so easily!"

"I don't know what you think Elrond or I would do with Gondor, but we have no intention of usurping you, or any of your descendants, to find out for ourselves. Elrond didn't send me here. I was asked to come by your son," I returned, making the tiniest cynical expression I could get away with. "You know, I've noticed that people who show apprehension or hostility to psychologists could usually benefit from their help in some way or another."

I sat still and watched him, keeping calm and expressionless. Anger was a common reaction to this comment, but was usually followed with a brief period of introspection. If they think it through carefully enough, they usually decide to open up to me, as though they had finally been given a plausible excuse to do so.

For Denethor, however, this sequence appeared to go in reverse order. For a brief moment, he seemed to be experiencing enormous inner turmoil, but it evaporated as his eyes widened in fury.

"You come to offer me insult," he whispered lividly. "You desire my kingdom, and my son was a fool to have any hope in you, Elrond perhaps even more so. Leave my presence, and stay away from my son for the rest of your time here." He shooed me out of the audience room with one hand, and I didn't dare argue at this point. I got up and quickly departed.

Outside in the warm air, I glanced up at the clock tower. 11:30. Must be time for lunch, I decided, making a beeline for the dining hall again.

On the way there, I ran into Boromir, who greeted me happily and watched expectantly for news.

"I'm going to go back to that place we sat and talked this morning. Follow me in a few minutes."

Boromir looked confused but nodded.

When I had spent a short while joyfully sunken into my new favourite chair, Boromir materialised at the door and closed it behind him carefully before taking a seat himself.

"Why are we meeting so clandestinely, Rhodri?" he asked worriedly. "Did the meeting not go well?"

"Got it in one," I replied, nodding regretfully. "He was not pleased about my presence initially, I don't think, but once I mentioned the matter at hand, he was definitely angered. As such, I am now forbidden from speaking from young, impressionable you while I'm in Gondor."

Boromir was taken aback and looked extremely discontent at this news. "But he needs help," he protested to nobody in particular.

"Unfortunately, Boromir, there are a lot of people who would benefit greatly from my assistance who do not want it," I said heavily, Elrond's face flashing through my mind as I spoke.

"But he will worsen, I am sure of it!"

"Here's the thing, Boromir," I leaned forward and looked at him earnestly. "It's hard opening up to a stranger, even if it helps in the long run. You enter a relationship where there is a distinct power imbalance, and it's a terrifying prospect for some. If he's not ready for that, I can't force him."

"Even if he is dangerous?" he returned.

"No, if he is a danger to himself or to other people, then I have to step in whether he wants help or not, or if he isn't of an ability to make decisions on his own. In either of those cases, though, you would have to give me indisputable proof that that was the case."

"What sort of proof?"

"Something that incontrovertibly demonstrates that A: he no longer understands the consequences of his actions, and B: that he does not grasp the reality of the situation at hand, even when it is explained to him clearly. Or that you have proof he intends to harm himself or someone else." I watched him carefully a moment before continuing. "So far, though your father seems a little paranoid, I do not have enough evidence from our discussion to draw the conclusion that he is not capable of making decisions, and I certainly didn't get the impression he was going to harm anyone."

Boromir frowned deeply as he sat quietly, impatiently tapping his foot on the ground as he watched the ceiling pensively. After a minute or so like this, he appeared to have some sort of epiphany, and sat up straight in his chair.

"I think I have the proof you need," he said confidently.


	52. Hordes and hordes of hoards

**Author's note:** CW: Institutional violence. Gets a little graphic, but not too much. Hope you good folks are all doing fine, and if you're not, that's okay, too! You deserve happiness.

§

"Oh?" I answered with interest.

"I recently found the room where he has been hiding through the day."

"What is in this room that will prove to me that your father is in no state to decide on whether he receives treatment or not, Boromir?" I asked, trying not to sound cynical. "I must impress on you that saying someone has lost decision-making capacity or could be harmful to themselves or others are both very, very serious claims and I am not willing to invade your father's privacy for anything less."

"The room is a disaster, Rhodri," Boromir insisted. "It is crammed with things, just as his bedroom and study are."

"As in he is not willing to get rid of any of his possessions?" I clarified.

"Nothing at all," he said with a grave nod. "Every scrap of paper, piece of material, every sword, arrowhead- everything he ever owned is in those rooms, and they are hardly able to be passed through."

"That is indicative of a problem, yes," I said to him patiently, "but he's got an entire castle at his disposal, so his life and the lives of others are not at risk from him hoarding things. It is certainly not enough to warrant my stepping in."

Boromir looked downcast.

"Is he doing anything, or is there any indication that he is engaging in behaviour that might endanger Gondor in some way? Is he trying to cut a deal with Sauron, or something of that nature?" I asked, trying to give him some chance to dispel the discontent from his head.

"Oh, no, absolutely not," Boromir said, shaking his head fervently. "He has no desire to ally with Sauron or have any discussions with him. We are constantly driving his forces back."

"Are your people suffering from avoidable hardship that results from something your father has done, or neglected to do?"

"No," he shook his head again. "We manage very well given the circumstances."

"So going back to when we were in my office, you told me that you had doubts that your father was able to continue ruling. What exactly is it you think is going to suddenly cause this downturn in his clear aptitude?" I asked, hoping that this would get to the heart of his worries once and for all.

"He… he is keeping something in there. I am sure of it," Boromir said frustratedly. "I think it's making him worse. I am certain it is why he keeps going into that room."

Hmm. This was curious. Something that makes someone obsessively sit in a room for hours on end? My stomach dropped a little. What if it was the Ring?

"What kind of something?"

"I do not know. But I think it gives him knowledge. After he has been in that room, he seems more confident and aware of things that don't occur to anyone else. And also more disturbed…"

I chewed my lips and gave myself a moment to digest his words. Perhaps it wasn't a ring after all, but a thing that gives knowledge? You'd think he'd found a computer with internet connection. But what existed in this world that imparted that sort of thing? I was certain by now that on the level of a psychologist, I had no right to inspect any further. As someone who was privy to a lot of insider information about Sauron and his machinations, however, it looked different.

Deciding I needed more time to turn this over in my head, I said to Boromir, "Let's leave it for the day. I want to think about this all a little more before we take any action, all right?"

He took this well, nodding. "Shall we go and eat, then?"

Completely forgetting that I was strictly forbidden to speak with Boromir, I agreed. Together, we got up and left the room, making for the dining hall.

Denethor, however, had _not_ forgotten the rule he had imposed on me, and unfortunately for us, he was also out and about when we were, and caught Boromir and me walking together as he came from the other direction.

"Oh, bugger," I said quietly.

"Wh-?" Boromir began before catching sight of his red-faced, apoplectic father storming over to us.

I had a sinking feeling I wasn't going to get a chance to work out if Denethor was hiding something dangerous amongst his apparent mountains of possessions. The guy looked ready to throw me out on my arse. I didn't want to invade his privacy in any way, but with Gondor's proximity to Mordor, I thought it incredibly unwise to ignore any potential warning signs.

With huge reluctance, knowing I had only a handful of seconds at my disposal, I entered Denethor's mind and gazed around wildly, looking for any sign of something worrying.

The inside of Denethor's head was minimally furnished and substantially less cheerful than Elrond and Glorfindel's had been. To my confusion, I saw that quite a number of memories looked identical. I grabbed the one closest to me and examined it.

Denethor was alone in a dark, severely cramped room, bent over a desk that was littered with papers with notes scrawled over them in sharp, short writing. The only thing on the desk that was accorded a little space was a piece of velvet that was draped over something that was about the size of a bowling ball. Steeling himself as his stomach churned, he took the cover away and looked into what appeared to be a glass orb, but it lit up like it was a television. He didn't want to watch, but he knew he would find knowledge in it, secrets of Sauron's plans, and forced himself to keep his eyes on it. It showed vivid pictures of Sauron's forces, absurdly and almost unrealistically large in number, invading and overpowering Gondor with laughable ease. The populace enslaved, Minas Tirith in ruins. Denethor deposed and killed, and both of his sons shortly after. His heart was pounding, and sweat was pouring out of his face and hands as he watched these scenes unfold in horror. He lay the orb back on the desk and draped the velvet back over it, shaking as he made his way downstairs to the throne room again. It had been even worse than the last time, and a wave of nausea passed over him as he thought of it.

The memory ended, and I shot back into my own head just in time to see Denethor grab me by the scruff of my neck and shout for his guards to take me to prison.

Amid Boromir's loud protests, two large, burly men grabbed me roughly by the arms and the legs and carried me in a reverse hog-tie out and down some stairs to a rather unpleasant looking stone room with a row of cells built into the walls. They opened the iron-bar doors to one and chucked me inside, locking the door behind me.

In theory, I could have probably knocked them all unconscious in moments, but it seemed terribly unwise to stir the pot any further at that exact point. With that said, though, I had just been unfairly imprisoned, especially since I had only met with Boromir to inform him of the new rules and stress that I respected his father's autonomy. As far as I could see, this really was unwarranted.

I sat patiently in my cell for a few hours, waiting for a new warden to step in so I could make some enquiries.

As a huge brick shithouse of a man came down the stairs, I stuck a hand a little between the bars to get his attention.

"Excuse me," I said politely, waving gently. He stopped dead and watched me, squinting warily.

"I'm sorry for the bother, but I think I'm in the wrong place."

The warden looked at me in disbelief before bursting into uproarious laughter.

"I'd be a rich man if I had a piece of gold for every time one of you said that to me, girly!" he said between guffaws before bending down so that we were eye level. The look of amusement slipped off his face, replaced by a look of worryingly cheerful malice.

"I heard young Lord Boromir arguing with Lord Denethor about you, and I can assure you this is the place for you. '_Let her rot in there,' _he said to him. And I wager that's exactly what you're going to do." He waggled his eyebrows once before walking past my cell and taking a seat at the other end of the prison.

Well, now, I thought to myself, that simply won't do. I was going to have to break out. I had to be back in Imladris in time for Glorfindel's eight thousandth conception day, due to occur in about three and a half months from now. Elrond and I had been planning a surprise party for him, and I wanted to be back in good time to get the arrangements together. A lifetime prison sentence would clash terribly with my plans. How often do you turn eight thousand years old, after all?

Night had fallen and I'd spent a good few hours more considering how and when to do this jailbreak when I heard loud, furious shouting coming from outside. The voice producing the noise was oddly familiar, but I couldn't think where I'd heard it.

"HOW _DARE_ YOU!" came another enraged roar from this person. "THIS IS ABSOLUTELY UNACCEPTABLE! I _DEMAND_ THAT YOU RELEASE MY WIFE THIS INSTANT!"

I got up and peered out between the bars and to my intense shock saw Glorfindel, absolutely wild with fury, being carried down the stairs by eight guards who struggled greatly as he writhed in protest. I'd been much more chill about it, hanging like deadweight and enjoying the swinging feeling that came whenever we took a corner. It's the little pleasures.

"RHODRI!" He shouted as he saw me in my cell. I smiled out at him and gave a small wave before something outside of the cell grabbed me by my hair and ripped me against the bars, presumably so I wouldn't try to get out as the door to my cell opened and they threw Glorfindel in with me. I reclaimed my hair by grabbing the hand that was holding onto it and squeezing it tightly.

"Kindly let go of that," I said coldly, gripping harder until I heard a yelp of pain and felt the hand relax under my own. I turned around and saw the same warden who'd informed me I'd be here a while looking at me with a disturbed frown as he nursed a red, slightly swollen hand.

Ignoring him, I went over to Glorfindel quickly, who had stood up and brushed himself off now.  
"Are you all right?" I murmured with concern as I took his hands in mine and cast my eye over him shortly.

"I am, yes," he replied, his eyebrows knitted, looking only notionally less angry now. "What on earth is going on here? Did they do anything to you?" He pulled me closer to him and put a hand on my face.

"Oh no, just a little administrative error," I answered quietly, my eyes twinkling a little. "My goodness, I've never seen you angry before."

"I'm rarely given cause for it," he said bitterly. "I was informed you would be kept here for an indefinite period and be punished harshly at regular intervals for attempted subterfuge."

"I see," I said thoughtfully. "Come, let's sit down awhile. Not much else to do in here."

Glorfindel nodded stiffly and sat with me against the cold wall. I rested my head in his lap and smiled up at him.

"_Bet you didn't imagine you'd end up here after your first day of negotiations, eh?" _I said to him in my head.

"_That would be putting it mildly," _he replied. "_I didn't imagine you would, either. What happened?"_

After I silently explained the whole charade to him, his eyes widened.

"_Denethor has a palantír," _he said. "_Oh, dear. We will need to keep a very close watch on Gondor, then. Elrond won't be pleased about this."_

"_Ah, so _that's _what a palantír is," _I raised my eyebrows in understanding. I had heard about them in passing some years ago. Nothing especially big, just that they were like a set of orbs that allowed video chat between other palantír owners. Skype, crystal ball version. A great idea, really, the only issue being that Sauron owned one of them and liked to mess about with others through it. Typical.  
"_I think there's something going on there, to be honest."_

"_In what sense?"_

"_I think Sauron knows he was looking into the palantír and was feeding Denethor progressively less plausible instances of Gondor's crushing defeat to try and depress him. That would explain half of the thoughts I came across in his head when I accessed that memory. They were so unrealistic. A sea of enemies, and only a handful of Gondorians, when Denethor knows he has allies."_

Glorfindel nodded thoughtfully. "_I think you might be right."  
_"_Well, we'd better get home as soon as we can, then, so that Elrond has plenty of time to worry about what all of this has in store for us."_

"_How, though?"_

"_That's the easy part." _I grinned like a Cheshire cat at him. "_One moment, if you please."_

I got up and stomped over to the door to my cell and glanced up and down each end impatiently. The same hair-pulling smug bastard was still sitting at the end of the corridor, looking like he was half falling asleep. I snapped my fingers loudly to get his attention.

"Hey. Hey!" I said loudly. "It's getting pretty late, beefcake! Long past dinner time. Can we expect to eat any time tonight, or shall we just wait for an unsuspecting rat to come in here?"

Said beefcake looked rather irate at having been called such. He stood up and marched over to us, and without a word, he stuck a hand inside the cell, grabbed the back of my head and rammed my face into one of the bars.

"You can eat iron tonight, I think," he said with a creepy smile as he started to grind my face into the metal. I heard another angry shout from Glorfindel as he shot over and ripped the warden's hand off my head. I straightened up, feeling some blood drip from my nose, and I watched him expressionlessly as he continued to leer at me.

Without another word, I grabbed the bar he'd squashed my face into, and with a small pull, it had come loose and I held it in my hand.

"What the-" came from the flabbergasted warden before I winded him with a jab to the solar plexus. The removal of one bar made enough room for Glorfindel and I both to step out, and as we did, I took the bar and bent it around this smug prick a few times until his arms were stuck at his sides. Taking one more bar, I looped it around his feet.

As Glorfindel and I stood over him, I asked, "Did you want some iron to chew on, or will you be all right there as you are?"

The warden said nothing as he stared up at us wide-eyed, numb with shock.

"Okay, mate, well, we'll leave you be, then. Toodle-pip!" I said pleasantly, waving as Glorfindel and I walked up the stairs and out to freedom.

"We need to grab our possessions and get the hell out of here," I said quickly. With a nod, we bolted to our room, snatched up out things, and made for the stables. We didn't even bother to saddle the horses, holding them in our hands as we shot along the path and to the front entryway.

Quickly dismounting, I ran up and kicked the enormous gate open, after which Glorfindel shot through with my horse hot on his heels. A loud commotion broke out as the guards started to shout and go for me, but I was a tad too quick for them. At my command, my horse slowed a little, and I had just enough time to run to it, spring onto its back and gallop away, the adrenaline pumping through me like nothing else. Glorfindel and I whooped and cheered for miles and miles, and when we got far away enough, we rested the tired horses and let them graze awhile.

"Ooh, we're _outlaws, _beloved!" I said enthusiastically, patting his knee in excitement.

"Goodness, we are," Glorfindel replied in shock. "I hope it won't make too much trouble for Elrond…"

"Ah, he'll be fine," I said airily. "We have too much that Gondor needs for them to cut diplomatic ties with us. If Elrond stands you and me down from any Gondor-related duties, he'll save face enough to keep things running smoothly. Besides, Denethor made a big mistake throwing us in jail. I think this'll blow over in a few decades."

"Yes, you're probably right," he replied.

"I feel terrible for Boromir getting caught up in all this, though," I said with a sad sigh. His concern was genuine, and I think he had very good cause to be worried for his father. I hoped his father didn't dole out too harsh of a punishment on him.

§

We got back to Imladris within the month. We weren't keen to be recaptured, so we stayed on the move most of the day and even part of the night. The horses were rather worn out when we got back one morning at the tail-end of summer, but it was a better alternative to Denethor ordering them to be turned into steak and glue as revenge for departing without his say-so.

"Elrooooond!" I trilled as Glorfindel and I walked down the corridor to his study. "We're hooome!"

His door opened and his head poked out in surprise.

"My goodness, what are you two doing back so soon?" he exclaimed, bringing the rest of his body out now as he stepped forward and approached us.

"We're criminals, Elrond!" I whispered excitedly. "We were imprisoned in Minas Tirith but broke free!"

Elrond looked at me like I'd just told him about my bowel movements. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly without any sound coming out as he pointed a quivering finger in the direction of his study.

Glorfindel and I stifled laughs as we went inside and sat down. Elrond came in behind us, closing the door behind him and taking a seat. He put his hands in his face and rubbed hard before looking up at us.

"You'd better tell me what's happened," he croaked, looking like he knew he'd regret every second of this as he made a feeble gesture inviting us to speak.

Nodding, Glorfindel and I launched into our story, struggling to keep our laughter from escaping as his face went from shocked to appalled to mortified, then righteously angry on our behalf, and then finally thunderstruck.

"And, yes, well, I suppose we've basically been riding almost nonstop to get back here to you. We missed you terribly, mate," I said with a sunny smile. Glorfindel nodded cheerfully.

A small, horrified squeak was the only noise that came out of Elrond for a while there.

"Oh, my stars, what a disaster," were his first words. "A palantír, false imprisonment, and a breakout."

"Non-violent!" I insisted. "The guard was immobilised, nothing more. Okay, well, one small jab to wind him a little."

"He deserved more, though," Glorfindel hissed under his breath furiously.

"Ah, don't worry about that," I said amiably, giving him a loving pat on the knee. "They're going to have a hell of a time getting him out of that bar, poor sod."

Glorfindel snickered a little. "That's true, I suppose."

"You two realise, of course, that it may be some generations from now before you will be welcome there again, yes?" Elrond said wearily.

"It's not such a huge loss," Glorfindel replied with a shrug. "We can still do plenty of the paperwork related to it, and Erestor can meet delegates on our behalf."

Elrond nodded in resignation, and a silence fell over us for a few minutes as we retreated into our own thoughts.

The quiet was disrupted by an almost theatrically huge gasp from me. Elrond and Glorfindel looked at me in alarm, since I wasn't given to making that noise often.

"_THE BEANS!" _I howled inconsolably. "_I DIDN'T GET THE RECIPE FOR THE BEANS!" _


	53. The pursuit of Glorfindel's happiness

**Author's note:** I initially wasn't going to do this chapter, but honestly, it felt absurd to just skip over such a big dose of joy as Glorfindel's 8000th when there's so much turmoil and misery going on. I hope you've got some joy in your day, too! :D It's okay if you don't, though. Not everything has to be beer and skittles. Keep sipping on your water, and nap as needed!  
** Guest:** Her reluctance to use her powers, I think, is part of the beauty of Rhodri. She has spent her life aware that a huge power imbalance exists between her and most others, and she refuses to exploit it. Beyond that, though, she likes her life to be simple, which in this case means continuing the steady supply of bread and cake flour from Gondor to Imladris. ;) And I suppose a curious self confidence comes from being so hugely powerful that makes indignities seem much less hurtful, hence relaxing as the guards carried her off. She was bothered quite a bit though, I think, when the warden grabbed her hair to restrain her from checking Glorfindel for injuries. Everybody has their price, it seems.  
** Clare:** I dunno how diplomatic immunity worked in Middle-Earth, to be honest. :P I imagine they just sorted it out amongst themselves as needed. What I will say is that I think Elrond was quite horrified with the whole prison affair and had to hear a _lot _of soothing words from Rhodri and Glorfindel so that the topic wasn't broached with Denethor in a crabby but polite letter. The things people are willing to overlook in the name of flour for their cake.

§

There were few things more pleasant in life than seeing Glorfindel ecstatically happy. Well, his happiness at any degree was wonderful, of course, but there was something particularly delightful when he'd gotten a huge dose of it. At maximum happiness, he would let out this loud, joyful laugh that rang for miles and was the most splendid noise I'd ever heard.

I wasn't alone in that sentiment. When we were planning Glorfindel's surprise party, Elrond had admitted to eagerly anticipating the sound whenever something was happening he knew would max out Glorfindel's good mood.

Now, let me be clear: even if Glorfindel never gave outward signs of euphoria, Elrond and I would still have striven equally as much to make his surprise party as enjoyable as possible. He loved parties, and he _adored _surprises.

As far as Elrond and I were concerned, he would get both in titanic proportions on this particular day. He was so well-liked by all that we had extended the invitation to everyone in Imladris, so it was going to be a party with a Capital P.

And not just that, but Elrond and I had been preparing two not-insignificant presents. The first had taken some years to engineer and was finally coming to fruition. Some years prior, I'd had the idea to make a slingshot by one of the longer pools, and planted two trees in proximity of each other. They were of a type that had fairly thin, smooth branches that were impressively bendy, making them ideal candidates for the repeated strain of propelling an Elf lengthways across a hundred metre pool.

At the time, I had thought about telling Glorfindel, but his big conception day was only a few years away at that point, so I decided to keep it a secret. When Elrond found out, we arranged it so that we took turns training the branches and maintaining the trees so they would be perfectly ready when the time came.

The second present had also given me quite a surprise. I don't know what possessed Elrond to do it, but during a Happy Hour just after we'd returned from Gondor, he dropped this bombshell on me in Glorfindel's absence.

"Your spouse seems to be making more trips down to visit Oldreth and Singlis of late," he remarked casually, swirling around the wine in his glass.

"Yes, their cats just recently had a litter of kittens," I replied. "According to Oldreth, Glorfindel is very taken with them."

"As taken as was with that litter a few years back?"

"Even more so, I think," I replied with a laugh. "He really loves cats."

"Perhaps you should let the poor fellow have one, then," Elrond said, not making eye contact now as a smug smile crept over his face.

"Excuse me, Elrond, but I believe it was your good self who put the kibosh on pets in your house, if I recall correctly," I returned, scarcely believing my ears.

"It pays to check that certain laws are still in place after a time, Rhodri," Elrond said crisply, sipping at his wine. "I, myself, wouldn't mind having one of those kittens as a pet of my own."

"What in god's name prompted this sudden change of heart?" I exclaimed in disbelief.

"Oh, come now, Rhodri, it's a perfectly reasonable thing to like animals. I personally feel a strong affinity with cats. They remind me of myself, somehow."

"Yeah, _you'd_ be the one to knock my bloody glass off the table," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that, sorry?" Elrond raised an eyebrow at me.

"Oh, I just said it's an excellent idea," I said airily. "I think we could use a little feline amusement around here. Let's pay Oldreth and Singlis a visit a few days before Glorfindel's party and put an order in, eh?"

On schedule a few weeks later, Elrond and I sauntered down to Oldreth and Singlis' place to say hello and have a look at these tiny, hairy delights. An hour later, Elrond had selected a shy blue-eyed ginger tabby for himself. Oldreth and Singlis advised me that Glorfindel's favourite had been a little jet-black individual with eyes as green as fresh leaves who purred like a motorbike whenever pats were being administered. They agreed to bring Glorfindel's little fellow up early the morning of Glorfindel's conception day, and Elrond's cat the day after.

The night before, I ran through my mental list as I lay in bed. Cat? Check. Slingshot? Check. The birthday cake was ready (an absolutely bloody enormous bee sting cake that took up almost an entire family-sized dining table). The party was due to start at exactly 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and Elrond and I were to keep Glorfindel busy away from the dining hall so that everyone could prepare without interruption. Too easy.

The sun shot up the next morning like it had come just to see Glorfindel, the light billowing through the window onto his face. As soon as he woke up, I sang him the birthday song (modified for the occasion) and he clapped his hands in delight.

"Oh, how excellent!" he enthused, beaming. "What a wonderful start to the day."

"Eight thousand and fabulous, my darling. Good job!" I replied, grinning and giving him the thumbs-up. "Now, are you ready for your presents?"

"Pr-oh, yes, I think so!"

"Marvellous. Well, let's get dressed and meet Elrond."

"Is Elrond the birthday gift?" Glorfindel asked, sounding a little surprised.

My mind flicked to those seedy pick-up moves where someone would wear nothing but a strategically-placed bow and saucily announce themselves as being the present, and I shuddered.

"I bloody hope not," was all I said before we arrived at the dining hall.

Elrond was already in there, hoeing into a bowl of strawberries, and he smiled and waved at us as we went over to him.

"Congratulations, Glorfindel! Eight thousand magnificent years!" he said warmly, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder and passing him some water.

Glorfindel jittered cheerfully. "Thank you, Elrond!"

He loaded up his plate with strawberries, grapes, and everything sweet he could get his hands on and managed to eat it all without any bother. Glorfindel had the most wicked sweet tooth I had ever seen, and never had I met anyone who could habitually consume so many sugary things in single sittings and keep it all down. I was in awe of him.

It was probably for the best that he did eat as much of that sort of thing as he did, because our first stop was to the pools.

"You're taking me swimming for my birthday!" Glorfindel squeaked excitedly as we approached the water, donning our fabulous stripy swimsuits. "Excellent! But why are we going so far away from the main pool?" he looked at us in confusion. We had walked straight past the biggest pool, which was the one with the water slides. The others that lay beyond were for training or more tranquil bathing.

"Follow us and you'll see," Elrond replied with a roguish grin.

After a short distance more, we were at the smaller of the lap pools, where the slingshot stood ready for use.

"The training pool? Are we preparing to undertake something?" Glorfindel asked, not able to keep his curiosity from overwhelming him.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," I replied. Glorfindel looked more confused now than when he had started out, but kept walking with us until we were at the slingshot tree. He hadn't really noticed the tree yet, so I had to point it out to him with a "ta-da!" for added effect.

"Tree art! I love it!" he said upon seeing it, and walked up to it for a closer look. "Have you two been training these all this time, just for me? This must have taken _years_ to do!"

"Oh, this isn't for aesthetic purposes, mellon-nîn," Elrond replied with a laugh. "Do you not see all the ropes hanging off the branches?"

"Oh. Now I do," he murmured, looking at them with interest. "If it isn't art, what does it do?"

"Ever wondered what it's like to fly?" I asked with a grin.

Glorfindel's entire face was a question mark now.

"Lean on the branches, hold onto them, and bring your legs up to your chest," Elrond instructed.

Still bewildered, he did as we asked. I took hold of the ropes and began to pull, and then, when I heard the wood start to make a tiny groaning sound, I let go. The branches snapped back and Glorfindel went rocketing through the air, screaming ecstatically. When gravity sufficiently caught up with him, he hit the water like a cannonball, the force of it all sending waves that went all the way back to Elrond and me.

Resurfacing after a moment, Glorfindel gave a rusty, wild laugh as he threw a fist in the air.

"Oh, YES!" he shouted joyfully. "Yes indeed! Art _and_ functionality!" He climbed out of the pool and jogged over to us, the face-splitting grin not budging all the while.

"So you like it, do you?" I asked with a chuckle.

He snapped Elrond and I up in a rather wet embrace. "It's _marvellous_," he enthused.

We spent a few hours noisily amusing ourselves with the slingshot. Even Elrond gave it a go, which may have been an even bigger joy for Glorfindel than trying it himself.

"I know we could probably stay out here all day," I broached as lunchtime rolled around, "but we do need to give you your second present."

"My goodness, I _am _spoiled," Glorfindel purred, rolling his eyes delightedly.

After drying off and changing, Elrond and I walked Glorfindel to the library and parked him there with the instruction to wait for us. We turned the corner and walked out to the top of the valley, where we had arranged to meet Singlis and Oldreth, and sure enough, there they were, standing under a huge beech tree, holding a smallish black box with a red ribbon tied around it. There were holes around the perimeter of the box to let the light and air in, but the kitten didn't seem to mind being in there.

"Ah, lovely," I said to them as they handed me the box. "Thanks very much, you two." With broad smiles and nods, they waved as they headed back down the hill.

Glorfindel watched Elrond and I in curiosity as we walked over to him, box in hand.

"Here you go, darling. Present number two," I said as I slowly passed the box to him. "Fragile contents inside," I added as a warning.

Intrigued, he held the box carefully in one hand as he untied the ribbon and eased the lid off. The kitten popped up, no doubt roused by all the noise and motion, and took a swipe at the ribbon.

Glorfindel's jaw dropped. "Is this for _me?"_ he asked as his eyes widened at this tiny creature.

"No, Glorfindel, we got you a box and ribbon. The cat is merely for display purposes," I said sarcastically, chuckling. "Yes, beloved, the kitten is yours."

"Well, only if you want it, of course," Elrond added with a smile.

"Oh, yes!" Glorfindel squeaked as he took the cat out of the box and snuggled it to him. It started purring so loudly you could almost see the thing vibrate. "I most certainly do." He beamed at us, his face positively shining. "This has been the most excellent birthday so far."

"Why don't you two take the little fellow to your study, Glorfindel, let him settle in a little. I'll bring some food and water so you don't have to leave," Elrond offered, nodding at me. Genius move. Keeps Glorfindel out of the dining hall all day.

I nodded back, and we headed down the corridors to Glorfindel's study. I closed the door to the balcony, and the cat seemed extremely pleased with the arrangement, walking around as though he owned the place. Still, I'm told that's a good sign with cats, so we must have been doing something right.

"Have you thought of any names for him yet?" I asked Glorfindel after Elrond had dropped off some food for us and the cat. We sat on the floor together, playing with the newest household addition.

"I have, actually," Glorfindel mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Lay it on me."

"Moth," he declared happily.

_Moth_, the Sindarin word for dusk, wasn't the first translation that came to my mind. Oddly enough, my brain went straight to English, and as I watched this kitten chase after an errant beam of light, I couldn't have been more convinced that it was ideal. In either case, the name fit like a glove.

"Moth it is," I agreed with a smile.

"How did you convince Elrond to let me have a pet?" Glorfindel asked quietly as he glanced at the door. "I didn't think he'd ever allow it."

"I have no clue," I replied, shaking my head. "I'm still in shock over it, myself. I think Elrond's getting soft in his old age."

"Says the one who's older than both of us combined," Glorfindel quipped with a chuckle.

I kept forgetting that. It gave me pause for a brief second, but with a shake of my head, I laughed and said, "So, what's it like being eight thousand years old, then?"

"Blissful," he affirmed, a contented smile on his face. "If only one could turn eight thousand years old every day."

"My god, how many cats do you want?" I whispered in horror, imagining Elrond's house absolutely teeming with felines. As I dispelled the thought, I perceived a curious, almost imperceptible feeling of heaviness inside me, but it wasn't my own. I looked up at Glorfindel and saw this smile had an edge of wistfulness to it.

"Something troubles you," I said as I put an arm around him. "Tell me?"

"I think, my Rhodri, we are entering the time of the lasts in Imladris," he said softly, breathing a tiny sigh.

"The lasts?"

"Mmm. The last big birthday celebration, the last few golden, quiet years- the last of everything before the world is irreparably changed."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I didn't know what to say to him.

"There are no comforting words for it, beloved," he said, smiling gently and shaking his head. "It simply is what it is."  
"We'll make the most of them, then," I replied, bringing him a little closer to me. "We'll drain every last drop of happiness out of these years. Nowhere else will be quite like Imladris, but I think we still have some grand adventures ahead of us in Valinor. What do you say when all this with the Ring blows over we take a trip somewhere?"

"That would be nice," he murmured, a little happier now as he rested his head on my shoulder. Moth, seeing that we were comfortable, came over and curled up in Glorfindel's lap, purring like a jumbo jet.

"How does such a tiny thing make so much noise?" Glorfindel said to nobody in particular.

"I don't know, it's something about babies I think," I murmured, eyes widening as I recalled the noises little Aragorn had made upon arriving in Imladris. "They're lovely when they're not perforating your eardrums, though, don't mistake me," I added quickly.

Half an hour before the party was due to start, I took Glorfindel and Moth upstairs under the guise of getting the creature used to our bedroom before we went for dinner. That was a reasonable thing, but I also intended to get Glorfindel dressed nicely for his party so he didn't show up to his eight thousandth 'do in a robe that was covered in the last of Moth's biannual moult.

We left the room, Moth fast asleep on the sofa, and made our way downstairs to the dining hall. When we were in the vicinity of the entryway, Glorfindel cocked his head to the side.

"That's odd," he remarked. "The door to the dining hall is closed. Do you think that means we can't go in?"

"Oh, I doubt it," I said casually. "Probably just means we'll have to open it if we want to go inside. Tell you what, though, I'll knock and ask the dining hall powers if we can come inside and avail ourselves of food."

I loped over to the door and banged on it hard. "HELLO, DIVINE POWERS OF THE DINING HALL! I, RHODRI OF IMLADRIS COME WITH GLORFINDEL OF GONDOLIN, SEEKING TO AVAIL OURSELVES OF YOUR TREASURES THAT DWELL WITHIN!" I cried dramatically.

Glorfindel snorted and shook his head, but his expression changed to one of confusion as the handle turned and the door unlatched.

I asked him to come over. "If this is a trap, I don't want to die alone," I said with a shrug.

A chuckle came from him as he walked over to me, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

At that moment, noise seemed to explode from everywhere as people started jumping out from all parts of the room, cheering so loudly that I thought the roof was going to lift off.

A beaming Elrond emerged from around the corner and joined me in putting a hand on Glorfindel's back.

After a few shocked seconds, Glorfindel realised what was going on. His eyes widened, and he glanced at the two of us, absolutely stunned. We smiled and nodded, and ah! He threw his head back and let out a loud, ringing laugh of delight as he pulled us to him. Elrond and I, squashed against Glorfindel, briefly grinned at each other as we drank in The Laugh.

"How cunning of you two," Glorfindel remarked. "Goodness, how did you arrange all this without me knowing?"

"Why do you think your birthday activities kept you away from the hall all day?" Elrond replied with a chuckle.

We got treated to an encore of The Laugh when Glorfindel clapped his eyes on quite possibly the biggest bee sting cake in recorded history, measuring around two metres long and wide. I have no official figures to prove it, but I have anecdotal evidence that around a fifth of this cake was consumed by the guest of honour himself (only after everyone else had taken their fill, of course).

I'm also pleased to report that as usual, he survived the attempt with no side effects at all. Mix in some dancing, hours of chart-busting music, and lashings of attention, and that's a dream night for Middle-Earth's favourite ray of sunshine.

Naturally, we had to zip back from time to time to check on the cat, but the party marched on until the sun had risen- the sort of night we hadn't had since Aragorn had come of age. Magnificent. The day after the party was unofficially declared a public holiday so everybody could go straight to bed when they went home, a stroke of genius on Elrond's part.

In our chambers, Glorfindel was out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow. I, however, lay awake for a while as I thought of our idea to move to Valinor. I had no idea why it kept looping in my head. It wasn't as though it was the first time we'd discussed it. It was going to happen at some point. I supposed the time was simply starting to draw closer now, so near that we could almost touch it now. Eventually, I shut my eyes. Whether I slept or not was anyone's guess.


	54. Awakenings and cakenings

I was in the utter nothingness, so empty of everything that it wasn't even dark, perceiving nothing myself. Not a thought, not a wish or a worry was in my mind, because I had nothing. I was nothing.

And then suddenly, there was a noise. Music. Every instrument imaginable played at once- drums, harps, trumpets, voices, everything- all in harmony, producing long, beautiful notes. It was loud, absorbingly loud, but not painful. The music filled everything inside me, and then one gasp later, I burst into being.

I shone like starlight, beautiful, penetrating and formless, and my head filled with thoughts and observations as I looked up and down- I could see now. My eyes were inundated with sights of vast blackness and pinpricks of stars. The music kept playing, and my field of vision expanded as the darkness and stars rolled out into the ever-growing distance, spreading out like spilled vantablack peppered with quicksilver. Except for the music and the stars, I was alone. Or at least, I thought I was.

"Hello, little one," came a gentle, deep voice from behind me. I turned and saw a huge, mighty man kneeling down so he was eye-level with me. He had rosy cheeks and long, blonde hair that was tied into a braid with a beard to match, and amber eyes that shone like suns. Smiling tenderly, he stretched out a colossal, muscular arm so that I floated on the palm of his hand. "I am Tulkas."

I had no mouth to speak from, but the name echoed like a song, and filled me with joy. I shone a little brighter, and he knew I had understood.

"And you, you are my Vinyaten."

_Vinyaten._ From the music I was made, but now that I had a name, I was _born,_ and as he spoke it, I exploded into my whole body, fully formed at last. I stood in his hand on two legs now as I watched up at him in wonder.

He looked at me lovingly and said my name again. "Vinyaten: the young thought. Indeed, you were one of my first thoughts. You will do much in your life, but there is a long way for you to go first, little Maia," he pointed a finger at me gently and chuckled. "But you will learn all you need from me."

I let out an excited laugh, leapt up and climbed onto his outstretched finger. Amused, he brought me close to his face.

"Tulkas," I said, smiling at him. My first word was the name of my Vala. He beamed at me and nodded, and I was so pleased he had found me.

"Already so bold and vigorous," he murmured with delight. "But you must also learn strength, speed, endurance. Are you ready?"

I nodded. I was born ready.

I jerked awake, saturated with sweat and panting heavily as I sat up, dragging air into my lungs.

"Rhodri?" Glorfindel said, the noise having startled him out of his slumber. "My goodness, you're wringing wet!" he exclaimed as he reached over and touched my hair. "That must have been a very vivid nightmare you were having."

"I don't think it was a nightmare," I murmured, wiping my face dry with my pyjama shirt. "It was a memory."

"Oh?"

I lay back down. "I can show you," was all I said.

Glorfindel nodded and sank back onto the pillow. I'm not sure why, but I pulled him tightly to me, wrapping my legs around his like I was trying to anchor him to me. It had all been so vivid that I worried he might be blown across the room from the force of my creation, and one glance later, he was me.

When the dream ended, Glorfindel was gasping for air, now drenched like I was.

"The Ainulindalë," he panted, saying nothing more as he looked over at me with wide eyes.

"Mmm," I nodded, more relaxed now. "Come, we should wash this sweat off before it gets into the sheets." I got up and ran a bath for the two of us.

"That was incredible," Glorfindel said as he lay floating in the water, his hair spread out around him like a golden halo. "To hear the song that made the world, the Valar… you," he added with a smile, rubbing his leg against me affectionately. I smiled back.

"Are you all right after seeing it, though?" I asked, scanning him cautiously. "I know it was very intense to experience."

"Oh, yes," he said serenely. "It tired me out a little, but I find this bath is having quite the rejuvenating effect. What do you suppose was the meaning of all that, anyway?"

"I don't know that there is much to be read into there," I said frankly, shrugging a little. "I just had a flash of a memory."

"You don't think it odd you're only getting this now?" he suggested.

"I can't think what hidden message there might be hidden in there," I said, frowning as I racked my brains for any indication that it was somehow imbued with a deeper meaning. "Not unless there's something to inform me of some sort of divine task, fantastical though that seems. So far though, the only thing it's really done is remind me of how fond Tulkas and I were of each other."

"It seems like he saw a lot of himself in you," Glorfindel commented. "Going by that dream, at least. I can see it somewhat, myself, when I think about how Tulkas was described. Vigorous, slow to anger, terribly impatient…" he chuckled a little.

I laughed. "Let's talk to Elrond about it today. He's good at divining dreams. Maybe he'll know something."

"You took the words right out of my mouth," he murmured.

"Oh, cool! I love this game. Okay, it's my turn now. Predict what I'm going to say next!" I sat up excitedly and grinned at him.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow in amusement, sitting up too. "Very well. You are about to say, 'Glorfindel, you're absolutely right, there has never been a better time than now to get more cake.'"

My eyes widened. "Good god almighty, you cannot possibly be serious."

"Does this look like the face of someone who would jest about such matters?" he asked, spurred on by my doubt as he squared his jaw.

"Well, to be totally candid with you," I replied as I took his hand and pulled him toward me, "It looks like the face of someone who is completely and utterly irresistible."

The jokingly stubborn look on Glorfindel's face evaporated, replaced by a swoon as he glided through the water over to me.

"Four and a bit millennia of psychology and I still don't know how to withstand that face of yours when it wants something," I murmured as I drew him into a kiss. He sighed and sank into my arms, gently pressing back with his mouth.

"Now," I said as I broke the kiss, "show me the dimensions of the piece you want, and in ten minutes, I'll return with the payload."

He took his hands out of the water and shaped out something about the size of a small postcard. Nodding, I got up, wrung my hair out, and excused myself as I stepped out of the bath and put on some clothes.

When I arrived downstairs in the main corridor, I saw that it was entirely abandoned. Not a soul had decided to pull an all-nighter. Even the kitchen was devoid of people. Not that it really mattered, because it was still absolutely laden with food. Finding the bee sting cake, I cut off a wodge for Glorfindel, and another piece for myself, promptly leaving before I could be tempted with anything else.

Back in the walkway, I was surprised to find that I was, in fact, wrong. There was another soul awake. A soul that I wasn't even aware was in Imladris.

"Olórin!" I said happily, giving him a cheery wave.

"Oh, Rhodri! Hello!" he greeted me good-naturedly, waving back.

I balanced the cake plates in one hand as I pulled him into an embrace with my free arm.

"It's incredibly quiet here," he said, looking around the halls worriedly. "Where is everybody?"

"You just missed Glorfindel's eight thousandth conception day party. It finished a few hours ago now, and I believe the entire settlement has gone to bed."

"What are you still doing awake, then?" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Ah, well, I had a funny night's sleep, you see, and that woke Glorfindel, and then he wanted cake, so here I am." I shrugged. "Actually, the cause of my odd night's sleep is something I'd like to get your opinion on a little later today, if you think you'll be available."

Looking interested now, Olórin nodded. "Certainly. Come and find me whenever you want. I expect to be in the library or Lord Elrond's study, when he eventually wakes. In the meantime, though, I won't keep you and Glorfindel from your cake," he gestured at the plates in my hand. "Am I to assume there is more of that delicious-looking creation in the kitchens?"

"You would be correct if you did," I said with a wink. "Well, for now, at least. Best be quick and grab what you want before Glorfindel does a magic disappearing act with it."

Waving goodbye, I strolled back upstairs and walked in to find Glorfindel back in bed, sound asleep. After wafting the cake under his nose and finding he didn't stir, I put the plates on his bedside table and crawled into bed, surprised to find that I was a little sleepy myself.

Upon waking, I felt revitalised again, and with a glance out the window I saw that it was about midday. Looking to my left, I saw Glorfindel lying on his side, watching me with a grin.

"Should we defy social mores and eat our cake in bed?" he asked, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

"Goodness, we're already wanted criminals in Gondor," I said in a tremulous voice. "Where will we go if Elrond puts out a warrant for our arrest here?"

"Mithlond, perhaps?"

I shrugged. "Sure, why not. We could even go west from there. Let them sort this damned ring business out on their own if they're going to evict us over cake."

"Quite right, beloved," he replied with a nod as he passed me my plate.

When we eventually departed the room, we ran into Elrond on the way.

"Ah, hello, you two!" he said with a warm smile. "All recovered after the party?"

"Just about, I'd say," I chuckled. "Have you run into Olórin yet?"

Elrond looked surprised. "No, actually. I only recently woke, myself. I was on my way to the dining hall to get some breakfast." He eyed us carefully for a moment. "I presume you two are going to do the same?"

"Oh, we already ate," Glorfindel said with a smile.

"Cake does not count as breakfast, Glorfindel," Elrond said smartly, fixing us with a pointed expression.

"H-how did yo-?" Glorfindel spluttered in disbelief.

"You have custard on your nose," he replied, cutting through his friend's astonished reply. With that, he tranquilly continued down the hall, his hands neatly folded behind his back.

After we both wiped our faces, we hurried after Elrond.

"Do you have any plans for the day, Elrond?" I asked as we caught up to him.

"Oh, the usual pile of paperwork awaits, but nothing especially urgent," Elrond answered. "I shall seek out Olórin as well, I imagine. Why do you ask?"

"I'd like your opinion on something that happened a few hours ago, if you have a spare block of time available," I requested.

He looked at me with interest. "Of course. Is everything all right?"

"Mmm, no problems. Let's take it after breakfast, yes?"

After we'd had our fill of food, we made for Elrond's study via the library to pick up Olórin. Inside Elrond's study, we all perched on the couch.

"So what is it you wish to discuss, then, Rhodri?" Elrond asked.

"Lean back in the sofa and have a look at this memory that came to me in my sleep last night," I said to him and Olórin. Glancing at each other in confusion, they both settled back, and as I opened my memory to them, they were under.

They emerged some few minutes later from my mind gasping and looking like they'd just come out of a violent storm.

"So that was where you and Tulkas were during the Ainulindalë," Olórin panted. "Such a long way away from the rest of us…"

"Breathtaking…" was all Elrond said for a short while.

The impatience grew in me as the interpretation I was angling for wasn't readily issued.

"What do you both make of this, then?"

Elrond and Olórin were jerked out of their contemplative, slightly exhausted reverie and looked at me vaguely. Olórin looked at Elrond, inviting him to speak first.

"If I could make a guess," Elrond began, "it could be a timely reminder."

"Of what?" I asked blankly.

"Of who you are and what you can do," he replied simply. "And who Tulkas is, too."

I frowned a little. I didn't care for cryptic answers at a time like this.

"Think about it, Rhodri," Elrond continued. "Tulkas was the one who came at the sign of strife, the only one able to restrain Morgoth. You did the same at Dol Guldur but with Sauron. Nobody else could have done that. He knows that now, and I do not doubt he fears it happening a second time. Whether you want to admit it or not, you can have an intimidating presence."

He looked at me frankly, and I failed to suppress a wince, surprisingly stung by Elrond's words. I wasn't made to be intimidating; I wasn't a bully. I was happy, zippy Rhodri, the early bird who doled out bear hugs like oxygen and enjoyed drawing comics about chickens. The two didn't fit together.

Ashamed, I looked down at my knees, aching sadly as I felt more of an alien than I ever had.

Glorfindel wrapped an arm around my waist and gently said, "You don't intimidate us."

I heard Elrond and Olórin agree firmly.

"Not at all," Olórin chimed in. "The other Valar were not intimidated by Tulkas, either. Morgoth, however…"

A surge of hope made me look up again. Had my self-imposed alien status been revoked?

Elrond smiled. "Not that Tulkas defeated Morgoth alone," he added quickly. "It was the work of a coordinated team, and we will work together in much the same way to stop Sauron in his tracks."

"Exactly what each of us has to do remains a mystery for now," Olórin advised, seeing my question before I could even ask it. "The best thing we can do is hone our skills, keep them practiced and ready for anything."

"Fascinating, though, that this came to you in a dream…" Elrond said, deeply intrigued.  
"Yes, I thought that myself," Olórin concurred. "At a guess, I would assume that Tulkas and Irmo worked together for that to happen."

My ears pricked up a little. That was a happy thought. Maybe one day, I could learn from them both without risking Ilúvatar shipping me off to Blighty so their jejune squabbles would simmer down.

"So this is my alarm call," I murmured with interest.

"It would seem so," Olórin said, nodding.

"I hope this means I don't have to give up cake," I said to nobody in particular, twiddling my thumbs in agitation at the thought of engaging in such strict discipline.

"Gracious me, no," said Glorfindel in a loud, passionate voice. Elrond and Olórin looked at him in surprise. Glorfindel didn't notice, continuing with, "It's never going to be that desperate, Rhodri."

I smiled. "You always know the right thing to say."

"Incidentally, while we are all gathered here," Olórin hastily continued, knowing that there was no return from the rabbit hole once Glorfindel got his mental hooks onto the topic of baked goods, "I have some other news."

"Oh?" Glorfindel said, distracted but interested.

"Imladris will be receiving a new resident shortly."

Glorfindel and I jittered excitedly. Elrond, the guy who owned the place, said, "Oh, yes? Whom can we expect here?"

"A Mr. Bilbo Baggins," Olórin replied with a smile.

Our jaws all dropped. In another display of bad timing, Glorfindel and I had been out camping with little Estel in the Angle during Bilbo's first visit to Imladris, and so had still not had the pleasure of his acquaintance. That was a while ago, though- some 60 years, now.

"Bilbo Baggins?" Elrond repeated. "He is still-?" he stopped, not wanting to seem rude in his shock that Bilbo hadn't popped his clogs yet.

"Indeed he is," Olórin said, calmly glossing over Elrond's surprise. "He informed me of as much during my last visit with him some weeks ago."

"But he must be ancient by now, certainly by Hobbit standards," I said, less polite than my buddy. "How's he going to get here?"

"Ah, that is what was particularly intriguing," Olórin acknowledged with a nod. "It would seem that Mr. Baggins has been blessed with quite long-lasting youthfulness. He doesn't look or seem a day over sixty."

In synchrony, Glorfindel, Elrond, and I all raised an eyebrow. Olórin grunted in assent as he looked at us.

"Indeed," he murmured. "Bilbo will be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday just over a year from now, after which he will depart the Shire for Imladris. While I am there, I will be examining the magic ring he found a little more closely."

"Do that," Elrond mumbled nervously.

Olórin gave us a reassuring smile. "It is safe for now," he said patiently. "But soon we will all have to start making preparations."

§

It's awkward when a disaster is looming and you know you have to do something, but you're not sure what. Rarely is it a happy combination, because it usually ends in everybody running around like blue-arsed flies, flitting from thing to thing and getting precious little done in total.

The beauty of a disaster-mode Elrond, however, shone through at this particular hour of need. Though deep down he wasn't keen to give orders, he was a terrific leader, and gave specific instructions to every person to cover every possible need that might arise. This also helped not only in the development of specialists, but also quickly instilled the sense of normalcy that kept the society in Imladris ticking over. To be honest, I think it also helped keep Elrond's mind off Arwen's engagement to Aragorn, which seemed to have every indication of going ahead if Aragorn managed to pull off what Elrond asked of him.

Olórin was to go back to the Shire in due time, going on from there to Isengard to pay a courtesy call to Curumo. Well, not really a courtesy call. More like sticking his nose in to see what the bugger was up to. It was a brilliant idea, though I wondered to myself how Olórin could stand looking at Curumo's smug face without taking his staff to it.

The workloads for Elrond, Glorfindel, and me also skyrocketed accordingly. Our Happy Hours (among many other hours) were spent in the training courtyards now, and in the office, paperwork was being completed at record speed to make room for conferences that went late into the night.

Much as I willed myself to remember more of my time with Tulkas, nothing more came to me, awake or asleep, meaning I had to set up my own training regimen to build up what he'd mentioned. Strength, speed, endurance. Speed was something I hadn't tested out yet. Frankly, I was pleased I didn't set too high expectations for that one, because I think I would have been disappointed if I'd holding out for Clark Kent levels of zippiness.

What I found I was able to do, though, was match the pace of Glorfindel on his horse, even at full speed, without getting tired. That was handy, and certainly quicker than most bipeds.

Training otherwise didn't seem to do much for my abilities, oddly enough. I either could do something, or I couldn't, and seldom deviated too much from the baseline I started with. For example, after almost two years of intense training, Glorfindel and I went back to the place where I'd shifted that massive stone for a camping trip. Despite all my training, I still had to exert effort in lifting it, and at most, I was able to jog with it. Hardly what you'd call statistically significant improvement.

Truthfully, though, I didn't mind. The idea of unlimited power was hugely unappealing to me, and I was pleased to know what my limits were, lest I accidentally strain something and have to spend the War on Sauron in bed nursing a bad case of lumbago.

The day we returned to Imladris, spirited and hair ever so slightly bleached from all the sunlight, coincided with the arrival of another person. He was short, with a mop of wavy salt and pepper hair, and the top of his bare feet looked like someone had superglued a couple of shag pile carpets on there for a laugh.

Ah, but what a jolly little soul he was! He'd shown up with a bindle, a backpack, and a walking stick, and walked with the vim and vigour of someone a fraction of his age. He flashed us a huge, toothy grin as we all materialised in Elrond's courtyard at the same time.

"Hello, there!" he said in a cheerful voice, tipping his hat gently at us. To my surprise, the guy spoke Sindarin fluently.

"Hi there," I replied with a broad smile. "You must be Mr. Baggins!"

"That's me," he acknowledged. "Whom do I have the pleasure of greeting?"

"Rhodri's the name," I said as I shook his hand firmly.

"And I am Glorfindel," my spouse said, beaming at Bilbo and touching his hand to his chest. "It's so lovely to meet you at last. We would likely have met when you were last here, only we were away camping."

"Ah, indeed, yes, I recall Lord Elrond mentioning that," Bilbo said with a nod. "Ah! Speaking of which, the very man approaches!"

Elrond, who had a hint of dark shadows under his eyes, strolled over to us with a gentle, warm smile on his face. "Ah, excellent! Three eagerly anticipated guests arrive all at once!" he said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them. "Come, you must be exhausted. Let us sit in my study with a wine and you shall tell me all about your journeys."

Excited at the prospect of a Happy Hour that actually entailed sitting down and chatting rather than swinging blades around, we eagerly trotted along with Elrond and Bilbo.

Elrond took a seat in an armchair that was across from the couch that I perched on between Bilbo and Glorfindel. Bit by bit, each of us revealed parts of our time away (Glorfindel and I leaving out parts alluding to my Maia status).

Bilbo, it seemed, had come to Imladris via the Trollshaws, moving through the daylight only and taking shelter at the tops of huge trees (trolls, apparently, could not climb). He was quite the gifted storyteller, and had us absolutely enthralled with his account of even the minutiae of his travels. I felt comparatively prosaic (and I think Glorfindel did, too) as we recounted our days in the Angle- not that there was much to tell aside from how sunny it was.

"Oh, and we found these cool rocks," I added, having nearly forgotten to show them. The Ford of Bruinen was littered with pebbles of all shapes, patterns, and colours, worn smooth and shiny from the constant flow of the water. Glorfindel and I spent a few hours inspecting them with fascination and came with a small handful of our favourites. I crammed my hand into my robe's pocket, scooped the rocks out, and passed half to Elrond and half to Bilbo.

"These are very beautiful," Bilbo murmured as he gazed at them. Elrond nodded in agreement, flipping them over to inspect the obverse side.

I leaned over and pointed at one in Elrond's hand, a black one that had a white spot with a yellow centre. "That one there is our personal favourite. It was Glorfindel's job to find the nicest colours, and I had to find ones with the most interesting patterns. But we both agreed this one was most fun."

"It looks like it has a fried egg on it," Elrond remarked, brushing his thumb over the smooth surface.

"Precisely why we liked it," I replied with a grin.

At that moment, Bilbo, seized by a memory of something, began to tell us about some of the rocks he'd seen in the caves under the Mist Mountains, which had us enraptured for another while. I could have listened to the guy tell story after story for ages. The others, it seemed, shared the sentiment, because nobody made any effort to get a word in. Whenever Bilbo made a modest pause to allow others to speak, we simply asked him more questions in the hopes of getting another tale out of him, which he readily obliged.

This sequence went on until night had fallen and the dinner bell rang. We hadn't even thought to turn on a light, and we realised we were actually sitting in quite a dark room.

Agreeing that it was best to leave the conversation for now and get some food, we stood up, grabbing our bags, and left for the dining hall.


	55. Total (lack of) recall

Glorfindel and I often agreed that we could easily write entire sagas in ode to Elrond's endless patience with us. I was told that before my arrival, Glorfindel, who had a mind like a shattered sieve, regularly tested the limits of our friend's forbearance. Not intentionally, of course. He was just… forgetful. No need for alarm. Such foibles as those happen in Elves, too, precisely like with humans.

My bouncing into the picture also expanded this trait into the realm of the Maiar, apparently, which doubled the workload of the long-suffering Elrond, now having _two _people he constantly had to remind of things.

"Now, after Happy Hour today, please, _please _remember to take your rocks with you," Elrond exhaustedly beseeched us a few afternoons after the night we had shown them to him and Bilbo. "Otherwise they're going to go among all the other possessions you two have abandoned in my nice, tidy study over the yén."

"Oh?" Glorfindel said with interest. "Where's that?"

"Is my missing shoe in there?" I asked urgently.

Elrond declined to answer, rolling his eyes and softly shaking his head in exasperation. "Just take them with you, would you?"

"All right, all right," I relented, holding up my hands like the henpecked friend that I was. "We will definitely remember to take the rocks with us when we go today."

Elrond squinted as he fixed us with a look of intense doubt, slowly slouching in his chair.

"Oh, Elrond! Such little faith you have in us," Glorfindel chided him playfully.

"I can't imagine why," he groaned as he rubbed his eyes with the fingers of one hand.

"Hey, unrelated, but how's that Bilbo settling in, then?" I asked, hoping to quell Elrond's despondency before a migraine set in.

Elrond, glad for the change of topic, sat up and filled us in. Bilbo was apparently having a lovely time here and had already won the hearts of quite a few children and adults alike with his gift for storytelling. In all, a huge net positive for Imladris, it would seem.

From there, the topics of conversation went impressively tangential, and it was only when the dinner bell rang that we realised how distracted we'd all gotten. Standing up, we went inside, making for the door into the hall. As my hand went for the door handle, Glorfindel hot on my heels, a distinctly snippish voice came from behind us.

"Excuse me, you two, but wasn't there something I apparently had little faith in with the both of you?" Elrond said, hand on one hip as he pointed at the rocks sitting on his good, varnished table.

Giving him our most winning smiles, Glorfindel and I bounced back over and grabbed the rocks.

"Oh, Elrond," I crooned at him, "Where would we be without you?"

"Drowning in administrative errors," Elrond replied calmly.

"Everybody should have an Elrond in their life," Glorfindel said sweetly as he put his head on Elrond's shoulder and looked up at him with huge eyes.

"Well said, beloved," I declared, putting an arm around Elrond. "What a delight it is to have one for ourselves."

"Flattery will not absolve you from the transgression of making a mess of my office," Elrond said to us in a less-than-certain voice.

"Humour us and pretend it does for now," purred Glorfindel as he wrapped an arm around Elrond's other shoulder. With him sandwiched between us, we dramatically marched out and to the dining hall, Elrond only half-heartedly protesting as we did.

As delightfully placid as we had made Elrond through our simpering and fawning, Glorfindel and I knew that it was only a temporary reprieve from his vexed sighs and tutting. After dinner, as we changed in our room for the evening round of training, Glorfindel commented, "You know, I don't believe we got all of those rocks back from Elrond."

I wrinkled my brow as I plunged my hand into my pocket, bringing out the handful of stones and holding them in my palm for us to see.

"I think you might be right," I murmured as I counted them futilely. I had no idea how many we'd started out with, but I had the feeling it was more than what we had now.

"We must have forgotten to get them all," Glorfindel mused.

"Mmm, I suppose so," I replied. "I'd rather leave their retrieval for another day, though, to be honest. I think one more close encounter with our forgetfulness tonight might just send Elrond around the bend."

Glorfindel bit his lip a little and nodded. "Come on," he said after a minute. "We'd better go, otherwise Elrond will think we've forgotten about training, too."

Checking the clock, I saw we only had half a minute to get out to the training yards on the other side of the house. With a shared nod, we dashed out.

Luckily for us, it seemed that fate had slipped the shoe on the other foot, because Elrond was nowhere to be seen as we reached our destination. The area where we three enjoyed sparring was abandoned because it was a dustbowl, the only thing in there of any interest being a gnarled old tree that hadn't produced a new leaf in years. Oddly enough, since many Elves loathed getting dust in their hair and Elrond refused to have it re-turfed ("It's perfectly fine the way it is! Nothing wrong with a bit of dust!"), it meant we invariably had it all to ourselves.

"My god, wouldn't it just be the most delicious thing if Elrond had forgotten to come to training?" I whispered to Glorfindel, who tittered noisily into his hand.

"Perhaps we should just start without him," he replied with a shrug after looking around him.

I shrugged back, drawing my sword. "Since Elrond's not here, do you want to throw in some hand-to-hand combat?" We were strictly forbidden from combining hand-to-hand combat with any weapon except for blunt or soft objects. Three guesses which shrieking authority introduced that rule after catching us rolling around in the dirt with our sharpest knives near each other's throats, laughing like hyenas as we did.

Glorfindel grinned as he whipped his knives out. "I'm ready when you are."

"Oh, the delights of the forbidden fruit," I proclaimed with relish as I dove at Glorfindel, my sword gleaming in the bright moonlight.

We were happily wrangling each other into odd and frankly dangerous positions, pointy things worryingly close all the while, for quite some time. After we had both sustained a few shallow cuts, I called for a pause.

"Elrond still hasn't shown up," I said to Glorfindel in surprise. "We've been sparring for half an hour now."

"That's not like him," Glorfindel replied with concern. "We'd better go and find him." He made to start walking back up, and I ran over and grabbed his arm.

"Let me just get these cuts off your face first, otherwise he'll know we were blade wrestling again."

His eyes widened and he nodded. "Good thinking. I wouldn't have liked to explain that," he said, keeping his head still as I murmured incantations and brushed my thumb over his cuts, sealing the skin back up. One constipated expression later, my own wounds were closed, and with that, we jogged back up to the house.

We checked the dining hall to see if Elrond was eating dessert. Nope. To the music room, on the off chance he was playing some chart-toppers on the flute: not a trace of him there.

"Maybe he's in his study?" Glorfindel suggested.

"Worth checking." We shot up the stairs and knocked on the closed door. "Elrond!" I called out. "Elrond, are you in there?"

No response. This was decidedly odd.

"Let's try his quarters."

Up another flight of stairs, we stood at the door that led into the set of rooms belonging to Elrond and his family.

"Elrond!" Glorfindel banged on the door hard. "Elrond, what's going on?"

Finally, we heard a noise from inside, and Elrond opened the door, looking ever so slightly frazzled.

"My god, Elrond, what on earth-?" I said as I caught his eye.

"We've been looking for you all over the place!" Glorfindel exclaimed.

"Yes, I'm sorry for the delay, but for some reason, I cannot seem to find my twin knives," Elrond replied, glancing behind us as if to check it wasn't mounted on the wall.

"Your knives? You usually keep those in your study or in the shed with the other weapons, don't you?" Glorfindel asked.

"I do, or I sometimes bring them up to my quarters if I won't use them for a while," he answered with a nod.

"And they weren't in any of those places?"

"None of them. I was so sure I'd put them in the shed, but it's been a while since I used them last so I thought I ought to check up here."

"We'll help you look," I said firmly "Where should we start?" With a nod, Elrond ushered us inside and gave Glorfindel and me a room each to look through.

I was assigned the morning room, which had long ago been the playroom of the children. It was as neat as a pin, and I couldn't imagine the knives being anywhere in here. Still, though, I opened a few closets, checked the racks inside, and inspected the large, wooden trunk under the window. Hell, I even got down and peered under the furniture. Not a sausage.

Stepping back outside, I saw Glorfindel come out of the reading room empty-handed. Seconds later, Elrond emerged from his bedroom similarly lacking.

"I simply do not understand where they could be," he groaned as he rubbed his forehead.

"I can't even remember the last time you lost something," I said, shaking my head. "Must've been over a hundred years ago now."

"Perhaps our absent-mindedness is catching," Glorfindel said, half worried and half amused by the concept. Elrond didn't look pleased with that theory at all, now agitatedly tapping his foot.

"You're probably just a little overworked right now, Elrond," I reasoned, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Come on. Let's leave arms training for the night and go swimming instead, hmm? You love the water, and it's good conditioning for the muscles. You might find after a short relax that you'll remember where you left it."

Glorfindel, a keen fish himself, nodded enthusiastically. "A break might be just the thing, meldir!" he agreed.

Elrond shrugged, nodded, and allowed himself to be steered out.

"_Can _forgetfulness be contagious?" Glorfindel asked me that night as we lay in bed.

"Nah," I shook my head. "If it were, Elrond would have been as bad as us years ago."

"He must be under incredible stress to have lost his knives, then," he pondered.

"Well, he _is _making a bit of a mistake keeping his knives in multiple places like that the way he does," I said. "If ever there was a time to have it happen, a stressful period like this would be it, wouldn't it?"

"Mm, I suppose so," he conceded. "Poor Elrond. He isn't used to forgetting things, especially something as important as his knives. He must be annoyed with himself."

Suddenly, an idea seemed to occur to Glorfindel. "Maybe we should teach him how to cope with being forgetful. It really can be quite enjoyable when you look at it the right way."

I laughed. "That's a fantastic idea, but I think he'd need to forget more than one thing to be in need of the sort of coping strategies that would help him manage something like this." I turned onto my side to face him. "Tell me what sort of coping strategies you'd show him."

"It would be mostly around looking at the positives, really," Glorfindel answered, tapping his chin.

"Yeah? Like what?"

Glorfindel beamed at me and proclaimed loudly, "I forgot!"

I snorted. "You've been itching for a chance to use that, haven't you?"

He nodded joyfully, and I burst out laughing in spite of myself. He wasn't usually able to tell a joke to completion because he'd start snickering unstoppably halfway through, so I was amazed he actually got through this one.

§

The morning saw a return to the blissfully normal. Wake up, eat. Zoom through a ream of paperwork, fiddle about with an idea or two for the next research project. Eat more. Eat a little more after that and then sit still for a half hour to prevent explosion. Train when mobility has been regained. Eat more. Train again. Bed.

And then the next day rolled along, looking deceptively normal on the outside. Breakfast, paperwork, lunch. Just your bog-standard sort of day. And then Glorfindel and I, wanting to do things a little differently, elected to arrive to post-lunch training _five _whole minutes early. That'd show Elrond and his la-di-da eidetic memory how forgetful we were for sure. Slipping out of the dining hall as soon as we'd eaten ("Sorry, Elrond, no time to talk! We'll see you soon!"), we hared off to our room to change into training clothes and then made for the training yards at similar speed.

Just as we arrived in the sparring area where we tended to train, we heard a voice from behind us.

"So _this _is why you were off in such a hurry before," Elrond said as he appeared from the weapons shed.

Glorfindel and I gaped at Elrond as he smiled at us smugly.

"Wait, but- how in god's name did you-?" I spluttered at him.

"We left you in the dining hall!" Glorfindel squeaked.

"Oh, the saved time of an organised mind," Elrond exulted, sighing happily. "Now, let's get to- goodness, my knives!" he exclaimed, pointing at something in the sparring area.

Glorfindel and I turned around, and sure enough, there they were, propped up against the tree.

"Huh," I said curiously as we all walked over to where the knives were.

"Those knives weren't there the night we swam," Glorfindel murmured.

"Nor were they here yesterday," said Elrond. "This is odd. I'm quite sure I didn't drop them somewhere inadvertently. And I certainly didn't put them here myself."

"Wasn't one of us, either," I said, gesturing at myself and Glorfindel. "I wonder how they got here."  
"As do I," Elrond said, unsheathing the knives to check them. "They are still in perfect condition. I'm still quite certain I had stored them in the shed."

The lack of an explanation persisting, we shrugged at each other and stepped into the gritty yard to wage war on each other.

Glorfindel and I had been under instructions to have an early night tonight (a part of Elrond's new stress reduction programme- two nights off training a week). What Elrond had failed to take into account was our inherently lower need for sleep because we were much less inclined to worry than he was. Another bonus of being chronically forgetful meant being less likely to recall stressful events.

Predictably, at 7:00pm, we were still teeming with energy when we had been shooed off to our quarters, and falling asleep was only achieved after supplementary strenuous activity. Now, I'm not inclined to complain about being given the night off training for my spouse and I to have our wicked way with each other, but I will say this: earlier to bed means earlier to rise.

With this in mind, we suddenly found ourselves awake at about 2:30 in the morning and, as usual, were keen for refreshments. Wrapping ourselves up in our dressing gowns, we marched outside and down the stairs to the kitchens.

When we turned onto the main walkway, the kitchen a stone's throw away now, we clapped eyes on something I hope never to see again in my life. A familiar bright, scantily clad presence was shambling along some metres down the hallway, raven black hair swishing from side to side with each clumsy step.

"Fuck a duck," I whispered to an absolutely horrified Glorfindel. "Erestor's sleepwalking."

Just as I said that, Erestor turned to the right, making his way into the kitchen.

Sleepwalking is a bit of a misnomer in my books. It suggests that walking about is all that people do, which is most certainly not the case. They can do anything from household activities to shopping, to committing serious crime- all unknowingly, of course. Some even get in their cars and drive. I hadn't had many sleepwalking cases in my time as a psychologist because they were usually sent off to sleep clinics for treatment there. As a sibling, however, I'd had more than my fair share of exposure, my younger brother Oliver having had a very severe case of it himself that started in his teens. Before my parents had installed locks on his door, he often woke me, a light sleeper, with his crashing around, doing wild things like putting books in the dustbin, chopping up pieces of cheese and abandoning them around the house, and at one point he even evicted my other brother, Rhys, from his bed to take over there. Anecdotally hilarious, but concerning when actually witnessing someone clumsily wielding a huge chef's knife to slice up a block of cheese.

Fearing for Erestor's extremities, "Oh god," was all I got out before I bolted after him, Glorfindel close behind.

We skidded to a halt at the entry to the kitchen, where to my relief, Erestor was simply standing blankly. I held out an arm as Glorfindel made to run in and grab him.

"We need to be gentle," I whispered to him. "It might wake him; people can get violent if they're woken up while sleepwalking,"

Bringing a hand up to my mouth, I gently called out to him. "Erestor! Erestor, can you turn around, please?"

Erestor turned around, watching us expressionlessly. The view of him at the front was as unwelcome as in the back; he was only wearing enough to keep him out of a pornography magazine.

Steeling ourselves, Glorfindel and I went over and carefully steered him out of the kitchen.

"Where are we going?" Erestor mumbled to us. "Got lots of work to do, you know."

"You finished work for the day, you're going to bed now," Glorfindel said firmly.

"Oh. Well, all right," he conceded placidly. Erestor was a lovely fellow when awake, and fretted about as much as Elrond did about his job. I had a funny feeling Erestor had been working a little too hard at the expense of sleep.

When we had taken him to his room and put him in bed, we waited a few minutes until he was fast asleep and then closed the door behind us as we left.

"Well, haven't we got a hideously awkward conversation ahead of us tomorrow," I murmured apprehensively to Glorfindel.

Glorfindel did nothing except shake his head, eyes wide, and we both admitted to ourselves that we had seen far too much for tonight. Our appetites sufficiently quelled by that episode, we skipped the kitchens and went back to our room to try and sleep. Outside the door to our quarters, I felt something uncomfortable under my foot.

"Ow!" I yelped, bringing my leg up.

"What is it?" Glorfindel asked quickly.

"Agh, I stood on something," I said, bending down in the dark and swiped up a few small things.

We took them inside, where an oil lamp was burning, and gasped.

"The rest of our rocks!" Glorfindel exclaimed.

"I don't believe it," I said, glancing up at him. "How did this happen?"

My question was met with a shrug, which I returned. Then, just like in the movies, we slowly looked up at each other.

"You don't think…" I began.

"Like with Elrond's knives…" Glorfindel murmured back.

"Just taking things and putting them elsewhere after a while…"

"So _odd, _though…"

"God, hasn't _everything_ about this night been strange?" I muttered.

Glorfindel nodded. "For all the soiling my eyes endured seeing Erestor in a state of undress, I must say that he doesn't have such a bad idea when it comes to sleepwear."

I raised an eyebrow as I looked him up and down. "I guarantee you won't have any complaints from me if you decide to do it."

"Please know you have my enthusiastic support if you decide to do the same," he replied with a soft smile.

"I don't think I'll be starting tonight, personally," I said, shuddering a little.

"Nor me," Glorfindel said.

We slept in both our dressing gowns and pyjamas that night, and even pulled on a pair of socks for good measure.


	56. Go the eff to sleep

Here's the thing with Erestor: he's a ball of stress and embarrassment in a body. The very epitome of the Type A personality, Erestor would regularly freak out about potential chaos and disorder and scrupulously worked to ensure that his own tasks had been completed to the very best of his ability. With only this fact in mind, it's probably _very_ easy to see why Glorfindel and I made a point of not letting Elrond and Erestor spend too much time alone together. If Glorfindel and I were are risk of serious injury from egging each other on in extreme sports, Erestor and Elrond were walking a thin line between productive stress and giving each other a stroke.

As a co-worker, Erestor was terrific. He was hugely clever, positively bursting at the seams with good ideas, and was magnificent at organising others. He loved his work, and positively hoovered up extra tasks when they were made available, though Elrond had tried many times to force him to take breaks and introduce maximum work time rules for him. He was, in short, incorrigibly industrious, but I don't doubt that he enjoyed every minute of it.

In his personal life, Erestor was a much more elusive figure. Notoriously private, he was very much inclined to keep everybody, even Elrond, at arm's length. It was a very strange feeling to consider how little we knew about him, even though we'd been through so much together- wars, deaths, births, and all the uncountable tiny things that when shared lay the foundation for solid relationships.

It was precisely this aspect of Erestor that had Glorfindel and me worrying about how to broach his sleepwalking with him. He was so easily embarrassed, often the first in the room to blush at something, even if it wasn't an outwardly awkward subject, and everyone who knew it avoided discussing such topics with him. His sleepwalking, however, was an incredibly uncomfortable thing due to the very modest nature of the Elves. They didn't wear all those long shirts and robes on to keep the cold out. Getting around in those 1920s swimsuits was their absolute limit, and was strictly for water sports, where they would mostly be underwater anyway. Going to bed in a pair of short boxer shorts was something nobody but the wearer's spouse might ever find out, and was absolutely not something you would wear around Elrond's wholesome Elven halls.

The only thing we'd decided on was that I should tell him by myself, in case the sleepwalking was something that needed psychological assessment. I would assure Erestor that Glorfindel would keep mum about the whole matter as well.

"I honestly don't know how to broach this topic with him," I said quietly to Glorfindel the next morning as we got dressed for breakfast.

"Neither do I," Glorfindel admitted as he slipped his shoes on. "I don't think there's

any alternative, though."

"No, I think you're right, there." I sighed to myself, throwing a dark blue robe on. "Let's just find him this morning and get it over with, preferably before he gets any breakfast in him. I don't want him horror-vomiting all over my office."

"That's fair," he conceded.

Just our luck, as we went downstairs and hung a left, we ran into Erestor on the way. He looked comfortably neutral, though under his eyes was a little shadowy.

"Oh, Erestor, just the person I was looking for!" I said to him with a smile.

Erestor smiled back. "Good morning," he greeted the two of us warmly. "You were looking for me, you say?"

"Indeed yes," I replied. "I wonder, do you have a moment, Erestor? There's something I need to discuss with you quite urgently."

Erestor looked like he was waiting for us to tell him someone had died. A flash of panic went shone off his eyes, and he watched us carefully as he nodded.

"Don't worry," I said quickly, holding up a hand. "Nothing life or death, but it's not something I want to delay in telling you."

He was calmed slightly by that, and as I waved goodbye to Glorfindel, Erestor followed me up to my office, where we went in and closed the door.

Sitting across from me at my desk, Erestor twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he waited for me to drop some sort of a bombshell on him.

"Erestor," I began as I poured him a glass of water. "Have you ever had any issues with sleepwalking before?"

Erestor raised an eyebrow. "Sleepwalking?" he repeated. "I have heard of it, but it has never affected me personally, no."

"Nobody in your family who does it?"

"That is a rather personal question, Rhodri," Erestor said, though not unkindly meant, as he blushed slightly.

"I'm sorry," I apologised. "I know you're a very private person, Erestor, and I don't want to make this awkward for you."

Erestor looked confused now. "What do you mean?"

"Well," I sighed, "Last night at about 2:30 in the morning, Glorfindel and I were walking to the kitchen, and we saw you walking in the corridors. I wouldn't suppose you have any recollection of it, would you?"

"Me? In the corridors?" Erestor said, puzzlement all over his face. "No, I don't recall doing this. I was asleep all night."

"You were indeed asleep all night, but that doesn't necessarily mean you were in your bed," I replied. "You walked into the kitchen. Gave Glorfindel and me a terrible fright. We worried you might hurt yourself on one of the sharp objects in there, so we called you over to us and herded you back to bed."

Erestor stared at me blankly, saying nothing for a few moments. Deciding not to accept it, he shook his head and said, "I think you might have the wrong person, Rhodri."

I shook my head back and said, "I promise you I don't."

He smiled. "It's all right, Rhodri, I know you and Glorfindel love to play jokes and make merry. I'd rather you both left me out of it, though, if it's all the same to you."

"We make a point of not dragging you into our jokes, Erestor," I said patiently. "We already know you're not into horsing around like that. I'm being deadly serious with you now."

Erestor chuckled a little and got up, making his way to the door. "All right, Rhodri. Thank you for the prank. I'm going to go and eat some breakf—"

"Mate, I'm telling you, I'm not kidding," I said quite firmly now. "Last night at half past two, Glorfindel and I caught you walking around the corridors in nothing but the skimpiest pair of underpants I have ever seen in my life, making for the kitchen."

Erestor froze. His shoulders slackened and his knees started to buckle. I shot out of my seat and grabbed him just before he keeled over, setting him down on the couch. I walked back over to my drawer and pulled out a bottle of Miruvor, tipping a good splash into a glass and walking back over him. Getting onto my knees beside him, I brought the cup to his lips.

"Take a sip, Erestor," I prompted him, his face now ashen and slightly clammy. He looked up at me, his liquid brown eyes brimming with tears. Reluctantly, he had a mouthful and sighed, a small flush of colour going into his cheeks again.

I nodded encouragingly. "That's the way. One more big sip for me, come on," I tipped the glass so that the last of the Miruvor ran into his mouth. He swallowed it and with a trembling arm, he wiped the tears off his face.

"Look, I know this is all a bit horrifying for you," I said gently. "Be assured, though, that Glorfindel and I don't think any differently of you, and we aren't going to tell anyone about this, either. It's none of our business. We decided to tell you because we thought it was something you'd want to know about."

Erestor whimpered unhappily. "Where is Glorfindel? Why is he not here as well?" he asked.

"Because I wanted to be sure we had privacy for what I'm about to say next," I answered calmly. "You see, sleepwalking falls under my purview as a psychologist, so I can try and establish if this has been going on for long and give you some assistance in managing it. Do you think that's something you'd be interested in?"

He nodded quickly, sitting up now.

"Very well. Let's go and eat some breakfast first so that you have something solid in you before we start, yes?" I smiled.

Erestor gave me a timid smile back, and together we strolled out to breakfast.

§

Upon our return to the office, Erestor valiantly sat through the Ts and Cs spiel, signed his life away, and we started.

"So you say you don't recall ever having done this before?" I began, pulling out a fresh piece of paper to start taking notes.

"Never," Erestor replied. "Well, not that anyone else has ever told me."

"And you haven't heard of any family members doing it, either?"

"My family is rather tight-lipped about personal matters, even with each other," Erestor admitted. "So if there is something there, I do not know about it."

I nodded, putting a question mark beside the wordsfamily history.

"Do you have any difficulties falling asleep or staying asleep?"

"Oh, no, I am quite fine in that regard."

"Have you noticed any small injuries in the morning that you can't explain? Bruises, small cuts, bumps, anything like that?"

"One or two bruises now and again, perhaps, but only very small ones," he said.

"How often would you say you find them?"

"It comes and it goes. When it happens, I might find them once or twice a week, but then I might go for long periods—years-- without seeing any at all."

"I see," I murmured. "When did you start seeing these mystery bruises, then?"

"I believe it started when you and Glorfindel had to go to Lothlórien with Lord Elrond. That was the day after you got married, if I recall correctly," he murmured thoughtfully.

"That was the first time you had had to run things by yourself, was it not?" I enquired, looking up from my notes as I felt a pang of guilt. It couldn't be helped of course, that we'd had to go away, but I felt bad for Erestor all the same.

Erestor advised that it was, and also confirmed that he had been sleeping much less during that time when I asked.

"Have you been sleeping enough this last little while?"

He shook his head.

"Despite the fact that Elrond's been sending everyone and their dog to bed at 7 o'clock sharp two nights a week now?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"He only sends them to bed," Erestor replied with a hint of a smile. "He never specifically said we were to be asleep by then."

I snorted. "That's called 'malicious compliance,' Erestor, and you know it."

Erestor's face shone as his cheeky smile widened, evidently very pleased with his little scheme. I could scarcely believe it was the same person who moments ago was at risk of passing away from acute humiliation.

"Anyway, during those times where you have bruises, do you ever remember having had any dreams? Something, perhaps, where you might be fighting something?"

He scrunched up his face as he pondered my question. "No," he said after a while. "Nothing that I can recall."

"How about last night? Do you remember having any dreams then?"

He shook his head again. "Not a thing."

Going by what he'd told me, I had the impression that Erestor experienced episodes of what is known as a non-REM sleep arousal disorder, which sleepwalking falls under.

There are a lot of theories as to why people might sleepwalk. Sometimes they're on drugs that disturb the sleep cycle. Sometimes it's alcohol (though that would be less likely in Elves). Most often, it's because they're sleep-deprived, and the parts of the brain that control strong emotions and complex movement fail to enter power-saving mode as they should. That's why they can get up to all sorts of weird things like evicting an older brother from his room, or putting pieces of cheese all over the bloody house (I'm sorry, but week-old unrefrigerated Red Leicester smells _frightful)._

Speaking of weird things, I thought to myself, "Erestor, one more question before we get to business: have you been finding strange things coming into your possession of late?"

Erestor looked at me in puzzlement. "Things? No, I don't think so. Like what?"

"Well, for example, Elrond's twin knives went missing a few days ago, and then they mysteriously turned up yesterday in the training yard," I elaborated. "They can't have just been moved the day they disappeared, because Glorfindel and I were training there in the days before and we never saw them there. Could you maybe have found them in your room and then put them outside again?"

He appeared more confused now but shook his head fervently. "No, I don't believe so," he replied. "I did quite a thorough clean of my room yesterday, and I didn't find anything like that, so I cannot imagine how they would have come into my possession."

"No small rocks, either?"

"Rocks? No, no, nothing like that," he shook his head. "I prefer to collect flowers, personally."

I frowned. It wasn't as though I didn't trust Erestor. I was sure he was telling me the truth, but Glorfindel and I had both suspected it might have been him. I'd had a hunch Erestor was accidentally taking things, finding them in his room, and then putting them out again surreptitiously a day or two later.

"You seem confused, Rhodri," he said, scanning my face.

"I am a little," I admitted, "but not because of anything you've done." I smiled. "In any case, what I think is going on is that when you take on too much work and don't compensate with enough sleep, you start to sleepwalk. Now, the solution to that is quite obvious, as I'm sure you can imagine."

Erestor nodded. "I have been rather negligent with my sleep when the workload has increased."

"Will you have any difficulty finding a way to cope with your workload while getting enough rest?" I asked seriously. "It's important that you get enough rest in such a way that you don't feel stressed because sleeping time takes up some working time. Are Glorfindel and I able to help, for example, with some of the paperwork?"

"Oh, no," answered Erestor with a casual wave of his hand. "I can make myself go to bed if I absolutely must, I just prefer to be awake and work."

"So you're telling me this is a matter of self-discipline, then?"

"I'm afraid so," Erestor confirmed with a wry smile.

"What are we going to do with you, Erestor?" I asked him with a chuckle. "Anyway, in the meantime, there are also some measures that you can take for your safety in case you sleepwalk again. Do you have a lock on your door?"

"I do, yes," he said.

"In which case I would suggest you lock your door of a night and also close the windows if you are able to climb out of them."

Erestor's eyes widened. "You really think I could fall out of a window?" he breathed in shock.

"It's certainly happened. People have died from sleepwalking and falling off high things. My younger brother, in fact, almost walked straight off the ledge at the top of a tall building in his sleep." I shuddered a little. I'd only just caught Oliver climbing out of the window of our holiday apartment in Spain, some 16 floors off the ground, before he stepped off and became a human pancake on the tennis court below.

Erestor looked horrified. I shrugged. "Sorry to scare you," I said apologetically. "Best to take the precautions where necessary, though."

He nodded like he'd never been more convinced of anything in his life.

"Well, give those ideas a go, and see what happens. Come back and see me if you find any unexplained bruises, and we can talk about some other strategies then, all right?" I smiled genially at him, and he gave me a small but warm smile back.

We took the long route together to Elrond's study, admiring the lush greenery around us that the midsummer had brought.It had been a while since I'd walked this way, and I loved looking at the statues and art that was in this area of Elrond's house. It was also where the shards of Narsil were kept, laid out on display on a piece of… you guessed it, bloody velvet, atop a huge slab of white marble.

"I made this sculpture," Erestor said quietly, standing beside a bust of Gil-Galad. I looked at it and felt a smile spread across my face. It really captured the essence of his face: stern but gentle, angular and beautiful, with an imposing presence to the untrained eye. And yet, on closer inspection, there was a softness and vulnerability to his visage.

"It's magnificent," I murmured in wonder, looking at him. Erestor blushed a little. "I can't tell you how impressed I am. So many details about him captured in a piece of stone…" I put a hand on the bust's shoulder and sighed wistfully.

Erestor shut his eyes hard for a moment and sighed. "I knew him very well. We grew up in fairly close proximity of each other and were often in the same place together."

I was surprised that Erestor was telling me this. I knew nothing about him, and then suddenly he was opening up?

"Erestor, listen," I said to him quietly. "I understand that you like to keep your distance from people in terms of privacy. You're not ever obligated to open up to me personally just because you did when you were speaking to me as a psychologist. You're not even obligated to open up to me in that role. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Oh," he answered, blushing a little. "To be honest, I didn't feel under any pressure to do it. I simply felt it was safe to do after how you and Glorfindel handled my sleepwalking."

"Just making sure. Well, you know, Glorfindel and I are always looking for new friends, so don't be a stranger, all right?" I said with a smile, clapping him on the shoulder. "You never have to be by yourself if you don't want to be."

Though the smile he gave me was tiny, his eyes crinkled up at the sides. That looked genuine to me. Strolling on, we reached the velvet monstrosity, and as I was staring up at the fresco on the ceiling, Erestor startled me with a small gasp.

I looked at him sharply. "What is it?"

He said nothing, pointing at the marble slab, and when I looked over, I saw that the hilt and lower part of the blade for Narsil was gone. We dashed over and looked close by, in case it had been knocked off the pedestal, but there was no sign of it.

"Oh dear," I whispered. "I think we might have some theft going on here, Erestor."

"Elrond won't be pleased," Erestor whimpered. I grimaced and shook my head, thinking of the mood this was going to put him into.

"Come on then," I said with a heavy groan. "I suppose we'd better go and deliver the news…"

**Psych Notes**

_NB: To understand the Differential Diagnosis, it is important to understand that sleep is a four stage cycle that repeats itself through the night. Stages 1, 2, and 3 are known as non-REM (rapid eye movement) sleep, and Stage 4 is called REM sleep. Sleepers are often easy to awaken in Stage 1, and it gets progressively more difficult until Stage 3, or "deep sleep," during which the person is only awoken with great difficulty. Stage 3 is when most sleepwalking occurs. REM sleep is the period of sleep when dreaming occurs. Being awoken during this stage, despite its being much easier to do than in Stage 3, can often leave people feeling quite groggy._

**Non-Rapid Eye Movement Sleep Arousal Disorders (Sleepwalking type)**

A: Repeated occasions of getting out of bed and walking around while asleep. The person's face is blank, not very communicative, and is hard to wake up.

B: The person can barely, if at all, recall any dreams going on at the time.

C: The person can't remember sleepwalking.

D: The sleepwalking affects the person by distressing them or impacting their personal, work, or social life.

E: The sleepwalking isn't because of drugs (medical or otherwise), alcohol, or some other substance.

F: The sleepwalking isn't due to an underlying medical or psychological disorder (e.g. REM Sleep Behaviour Disorders).

**Differential diagnosis**

Similar symptoms to sleepwalking can show up in REM sleep behaviour disorders, and the two can be hard to differentiate. The main difference lies in the fact that the person is often able to recall their dreams, as they usually feel like they are "acting them out" when they walk about and do odd things.

Among humans, differential diagnosis is also made to what is known as dissociative fugue, which is where a person is unable to recall blocks of time that are too large and significant to be considered normal forgetfulness. This is usually a symptom of a dissociative disorder (known colloquially as 'multiple personality disorder'), a disorder which due to its extreme unlikelihood of affecting Elves is not mentioned here. It is distinct from other sleep/wake disorders in that the person does not stay asleep while they are in dissociative fugue. They have woken up and simply entered that state of amnesia, whereas sleepwalkers and the like are asleep the entire time. It can make for quite a difficult differential diagnosis among clinicians.


	57. In which Rhodri dabbles in forensics

earthdragon: Ah, but at this point, Rhodri ascertained that it can't have been Erestor. Not while he was sleepwalking, anyway. She only asked him if he had found objects in his room. He can't have simply moved them overnight, because the objects disappeared without a trace for several days before resurfacing somewhere else. She was trying to work out if he had simply taken them with him and then upon discovering them in his room the next day, had tried to put them somewhere else, not knowing where or how he'd acquired them.

Jenn: In my own interpretation, though they're in a smallish minority, Elves can be gay or bi. Given the official line of most Christian denominations regarding homo- and bisexuality, I very much doubt it's canon, though. From what I know about sexuality (not much in the grand scheme of things), a lot of it has biological underpinnings, and I honestly don't know if the Elves, who seem not to have such a wide variety in phenotypes as humans do, would be able to produce same sex-attracted offspring. However, that's not the world we live in, and I think it's important that sexuality-diverse readers have worlds that they feel comfortable immersing themselves in. This one welcomes them and hopes they feel at home.

§

I had briefly entertained the idea of just not telling Elrond about the suddenly-absent Narsil parts in favour of establishing Middle-Earth's first circus and proceeding to run away with it. However, a monkey wrench was swiftly thrown into proceedings when I realised we had no elephants.

"Bollocks," I cursed under my breath as Erestor and I made our way to Elrond's study.

Erestor looked at me quizzically. "_Torture ringlet?"_ he repeated, having heard 'baul loch' instead of the actual word I used.

In no mood to explain what that word actually referred to, I simply nodded and said, "Mmm, common word from my region to express concern at a situation."

"Oh, I see," said Erestor. "Where are you from, anyway?"

It took a not-insubstantial amount of effort to stifle a "for fuck's sake" then. Not because I was angry at Erestor's asking questions and trying to get to know me personally. I was thrilled about that, but could it not have happened at _any _other time? I mean, come on.

"Erestor," I said as we stopped outside Elrond's door. "I promise faithfully to give you an answer when we are finished here. Right now, though, I must ask that we must focus on the task at hand, which is to deliver crushingly disappointing news to Elrond in a sensitive and loving manner."

Erestor looked stunned, but took my answer very well. He nodded, and I rapped my knuckles on Elrond's door.

Invited inside, I opened the door to see Elrond having a relaxed discussion with Glorfindel. I waved to the both of them.

"Oh, hello!" Glorfindel greeted us, his face brightening.  
"Ah, Rhodri, Erestor, excellent. Just the people I was hoping to s-" Elrond paused when he saw my face, which must have displayed my unease quite openly. "Something is wrong." He glanced over at Erestor, who also looked quite perturbed, and then his eyes darted back to me.

"Rhodri, have you been roping Erestor into some sort of foolish endeavour with trampolines or branch sliding?" Elrond asked me, fixing me with a scathingly suspicious look.

Glorfindel let out a scandalised gasp. "How _rude_, Elrond!" he admonished him in a galled tone. "Kindly remember that's _my_ _wife _you're accusing! She would _never_ do something like that without me!"

The two of them quickly descended into a semi-playful verbal squabble, and for a brief moment, I became Elrond, burying my face in my hands and hoping to find enough patience to get through the afternoon.

"Oh, for the love of god," I breathed in exasperation.

They had both heard this and looked up at me in surprise, since I was often the loudest and most animated of all of them when this happened.

"Ahem, my apologies, Rhodri, I misinterpreted this as a time for levity. It seems I was very much mistaken," Elrond mumbled contritely. "Please, go ahead and tell us what's going on."

I sighed and walked over to where the two sat, pulling up a seat for myself. Erestor did the same.

"I'm sorry, I'm not upset at you," I said after a moment. "I just know you're going to hate this news. You see, Erestor and I were taking the long way to your study. We stopped for a brief look in that part of the corridor with all the sculptures and the shards of Narsil, and the hilt of Narsil has gone."

It was a terrible thing in and of itself that part of the sword had disappeared. Elrond had been planning on re-forging it and giving it to Aragorn if/when he eventually proved himself 'worthy' of it. On top of that, though, theft was almost entirely unheard of in Imladris. What cause was there for people to steal when they had everything they needed, and had the wisdom and patience to know that almost anything they wanted could be acquired with relative ease? Though he never said it out loud, Elrond was proud of the way Imladris was run, and with his strict moral compass in mind, I knew that hearing about a string of thefts would be painful for him.

To my chagrin, my suspicions were correct. Elrond's eyes widened, and he sat up straight in his chair, watching me as though he thought he had misheard me.  
"Surely not!" gasped Glorfindel.

I shook my head and shrugged at them both. "I know, I'm shocked as well. Given the recent disappearances of other various objects, I'm inclined to think that this might be indicative of a string of thefts."

Elrond closed his eyes in mortification, saying nothing for a while.

"Look," I said quickly. "For all we know, it might not be any serious attempts at thievery. Two of the three things that have gone missing have shown up in strange places a few days later, and it might be the case for the hilt as well."

"Don't worry, meldir," Glorfindel said in a newfound tone of reassurance as he stretched out from his chair and pat Elrond on the knee. "Rhodri and I will find out who's doing this."

"I'll help, too!" piped up Erestor, who until this point had been silent. We all looked at him in surprise. In keeping with his loner lifestyle, Erestor had never been keen on group work, and though he always did admirably when we had to all pitch in on a project, it was very clear that he preferred to work alone.

"Oh, _good_, Erestor!" Glorfindel enthused, beaming as he clapped his hands in delight.

"Yeah, this is going to be great," I agreed with a broad grin.

Erestor, totally out of character, smiled bashfully and looked at his toes, and I could hear Glorfindel screaming in my head from the preciousness of it all.

Elrond, bless his cotton socks, was such a whirlwind of emotions at this point (primarily bewilderment and devastation) that he looked like he was moments away from chucking it all and going home to his wife. This all really was the last thing he needed right now, but at least we were taking steps to fix it.

"Glorfindel's right, though, Elrond," I said to him gently. "We three will sort this out. The only thing you need to decide is how often we update you on our findings."

"Perhaps daily," Elrond said after thinking for a bit.

I nodded and smiled. "All right. Well, I suppose I'll start doing a bit of sleuthing, then. Expect your first report tomorrow morning." With a wave, I left the room and made for the crime scene to take a closer look around.

On my way there, I heard a voice from behind me. "Rhodri, wait for me!"

I turned around and saw Erestor jogging over, a hopeful smile on his face. Had he not been an Elf, I would have doubted his intentions in suddenly getting all buddy-buddy with me right in the middle of an Imladris-style crime spree. Happily, Elves aren't really built to lie, and usually very aptly detect lies in other Elves as well.

What worried me more was the possibility Erestor felt somehow indebted to Glorfindel and me for keeping quiet about his nocturnal wanderings, which was a terrible and unbalanced way to start a friendship. Nobody should have to ingratiate themselves in exchange for acts of basic decency. How was I meant to work out what was really going on, though?

"Sure thing, Erestor," I said with a smile as I waited for him to approach. When he caught up to me, we continued on for what was left of the Narsil display.

"So how are we going to start with this?" Erestor asked as we reached the sculpture area again.

"Erestor, are quite you sure that you actually want to do this?" I enquired as gently as I could. "You have an awful lot on your plate at the moment as it is. Taking on extra work seems to be a little… I don't know... counterintuitive."

His face fell a little as he clutched his hands together, and his cheeks started to flush a deep red.

"Oh, hey," I said quickly. "Look, Erestor, I like you very much. So does Glorfindel, and I know Elrond does as well, but you must admit that this is all rather out of character for you. You've always been the type to keep to yourself. And that's fine."

Erestor looked at me, his eyes filling up with tears again as he started to wring his hands forcefully. Uh oh.

"Right, okay, let's quickly go to my office and just sit for a short spell, all right?"

Seemingly unable to make any noise, he let himself be led to my office where I sat him on the couch and excused myself for a moment.

I streaked down to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of juice and two sticky buns, and ran back to the office. Erestor was curled up on the couch with his knees up to his chin, breathing quite shallowly, and when he glanced up at me standing there with this stuff in my hands, he almost lost it entirely.

Placing the buns and juice down on the coffee table, I sat down beside Erestor and looked at him calmly.

"Erestor, do you need to speak to a psychologist? Whatever you tell me won't have any impact on how I treat you outside the office." I asked in a kind but clinical manner.

He sniffled a little and slowly shook his head, eyes fixed on his knees.

"Do you want to talk to a regular person?" I pressed.

Erestor turned to face me now and nodded. "Yes, please," he breathed.

"All right," I said with a smile. "What's going on, Erestor? What's come over you today, hm?"

"I'm lonely, Rhodri," he choked before his composure fully dissolved and he started to sob into his knees.

A chorus line can-canned through my head singing "_What the fuck, what the fuck, what the actual fucking fuck?"_ Before today, this guy had shown a hint of a tear only once in living memory, and now he was pouring out his entire lachrymal glands in one sitting.

Bewildered, I shuffled a little closer to him (I always gave Erestor plenty of room, since he appeared to prefer it that way and had never tried to sit nearer to people).

"Do… do you want a hug?" I asked cautiously between his sobs.

I saw his head nod a bit as he rubbed his forehead against his kneecaps. Moving a little closer, I put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a friendly squeeze. We sat like that for a while until he was able to dry out a bit.

"How come you're lonely, Erestor?" I probed. "You always seem so uncomfortable with the idea of building personal relationships with others that we try to leave you in peace. If we'd known you were lonely we'd have been in your face constantly!"

Erestor let out a deep, shuddering breath. "I _am _uncomfortable with it, but that doesn't mean I don't want it all the same," he admitted.

"Well, mate, it sounds like you've reached a point where the discomfort of being alone finally outweighs the discomfort of reaching out to people," I said with a small smile. "What does that tell you?"

"That I've lost a lot of opportunities to make friends," he answered bitterly.

"You might have passed up a few through your life," I conceded. "Most of us have made a mistake or two like that. You're not without options now, though. Glorfindel and I both like you mighty fine, like I said before. We'd always love to-"

A knock came at the door. "Rhodri? Are you in there?"  
"Oh, it's Glorfindel," I said to Erestor. "Can he come in, or is this a bad time?"

"N-no, he can come in," Erestor replied, nodding fervently.

"Come in if you're good-looking!" I shouted at the door.

The door cracked open a fraction, and I saw a flash of gold outside. "Oh! Oh! Is it me? Am I good-looking?" I was so sure he started bouncing on his feet.

I excused myself, stood up and went to the door. "You're stunning, Glorfindel. Come inside," I murmured, opening it up.  
"_As if I'd say that to anyone else but you," _I continued in my head as we walked over to Erestor not quite suppressing a grin.  
"_I know, but I just love to hear that you think I'm handsome!" _he sang back at me. "Hello, Erestor!" he said, turning now to the presence on the couch. Glorfindel looked taken aback as he noticed Erestor was tear-streaked.  
"Oh, dear," he said softly, taking a seat on one side of Erestor and putting a hand on his shoulder. "What is the matter?"

"Erestor needs a friend," I said simply as I sat on the other side of him.

"Oh, well, you have two in this room right now," Glorfindel said brightly as he gestured at himself and me. "Can we help?"

"I think so," Erestor answered with a timid smile. "But why do you both keep acting strangely when I try to reach out?"

"Well, think about this from our perspective, Erestor," I replied. "You've been a very withdrawn person as long as we've known you, and the same day we tell you about having seen you in a very compromising position is the day you start acting so differently."

"Did I do it wrong?" he gasped.

"No, no," Glorfindel assured him quickly. "Not at all. We just… we wouldn't want you to be trying to make friends with us now just so you could be sure we would keep quiet about this situation. We'd keep it to ourselves whether or not you wanted to get to know us personally."

The penny seemed to drop for Erestor at that moment. Sometimes it takes hearing the same concept a few different ways before it really clicks. This time it really became apparent.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "It _was_ this sleepwalking issue that made me decide to do it, but not for the reason you're worried about."

"What was it, then?" I asked curiously.

"Well, I suppose I have always been afraid to reach out to others because I wasn't sure what to expect," Erestor admitted. "What if I confided in others and they divulged it? And then this happened, and the two of you told nobody-"

"Which is basic decency and should be expected-" I added firmly.

"But it is not always observed, even if it _should_ be obligatory," Erestor continued, looking at me pointedly.

I sighed. That much was true.

"I suppose what I am trying to say is that my fear of people finding something secret out about me came to pass, and at the same time, that fear was shown to be unnecessary."

"Ah, so we pass the test, do we?" I said with a grin.

Erestor chuckled weakly. "Yes, you could very well say that."

"Cool," I gave him the thumbs up. "So now we're friends, huh?"

Erestor nodded, flicking a shy smile between me and Glorfindel.

"Oh, good!" Glorfindel enthused, beaming at Erestor and then suddenly catching sight of the two sticky buns.

"Tell me," he murmured to the two of us, "Are those sticky buns intended for consumption any time soon?"

"They're intended for consumption right now," I answered happily as I cut both buns into thirds. "There, two pieces each if my arithmetic hasn't totally failed me."

Grabbing a bit each, we sat and chewed thoughtfully.

"Now, returning to my original question," Erestor mumbled through a mouthful of dough, "how will we start this task of finding the thief?"

"Haven't got a bloody clue," I replied, throwing the last morsel of my piece in the air and catching it in my mouth. "I'd rather hoped we might find some useful information by the rest of the shards."

"Shall we have a look, then?" Glorfindel asked, already on his feet.

"Why not," I said as Erestor and I got up and followed him outside.

It was not pessimistic in the slightest to say that we were totally out of our depth here. Glorfindel and I were especially ill-suited for a career in forensics because we were too jolly and easily distracted. Suspect interrogation? Forget it. Remembering crucial details, or even noticing them in the first place? Ha! And as for joining the dots for an amazing, Sherlock Holmes-like "a-ha!" moment, we'd have had better odds hoping that Sauron was a kindly sort who was open to negotiations about his Ring.

Erestor, however, with his proclivity for note-taking and overall meticulous nature, was in his element.

Or at least he would have been, had we even had a hint of a lead to go from.

Keeping in mind that the need to trace a criminal had never arisen in Imladris, with the lack of forensic equipment and techniques in this world, we were essentially reduced to looking for fallen hairs and dried mud that had stuck to shoes, neither of which had been left by the remains of Narsil.

"Rather than searching for physical clues, perhaps it might be wise to see if anyone else has noticed this sort of thing going on," I said as we sat dejectedly in my office half an hour later.

"Whom would we even speak with, though?" Glorfindel asked. "It seems like so far, the only people that have been affected are us."

"That we know of," Erestor returned. "Perhaps we should ask around to see if anyone else has had things go missing."

Seemed like a good idea. Splitting up, we headed back out and strolled around the grounds and corridors, casually chatting with whomever we ran into. It was a beautiful sunny day, and folks were out in their droves milling about, occupying benches, and busying themselves in all manner of ways.

Glorfindel didn't even have to find someone. Before he could get more than a handful of steps out of the office, he was flagged down by a cousin of Bregedúr's, an Elf with shining black hair appropriately named Galvorn who worked in the forge. He seemed to be enjoying the sun with his wife, Lithwen, and their two kids, all perched on the side of a garden bed with the rays on their face.

Erestor tentatively sat on a bench some way away beside Turil (yes, little Turil, friend of the spiders), who had since grown up to be one of Imladris' pre-eminent naturalists, and struck up a conversation with her.

I didn't have far to go, myself, before I was stopped with the wave of a hand.

"Oh, hello, Bilbo," I greeted him cheerfully as I plonked myself down on the bench he sat on. "What's new?"

"Ah, I am making great strides with my book," he said, gesturing proudly at his ever-growing manuscript, complete with illustrations. I ooh-ed and ahh-ed as he took me through the latest chapter before we returned to the page he was working on.

"And what of you, Rhodri?" he asked convivially. "No doubt you've been kept busy of late!"

"Never a dull moment here, Bilbo," I said with a grin. "In fact, there's a new task just come up which is why I was wandering around here."

"Oh, yes? Tell me about it," he said, swinging his legs back and forth as he watched me with interest.

"Not as happy as I'd like, but it's interesting all the same: burglary."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow at me. "Burglary? Have you considered taking up a life of crime, my dear?"

"Me? Good god, no," I laughed. "Not cut out for that sort of thing. No, there's been a string of robberies around Imladris of late, and I'm going around asking people if they've seen anything suspicious. Do you know of anything untoward-"

"Ah, I could tell you a thing or two about burglaries!" he interrupted, eyes wide and legs swinging furiously now as his cheeks flushed a tad. "That Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, why, she attempted to make off with my entire silverware collection one weekend!"

With that, Bilbo launched into a story which, while interesting, was not particularly helpful to me. Still, I figured we were both enjoying it, so it wasn't a complete loss. After his narration had drawn to a close, I decided to get back on the job, and fondly took my leave of him.

"Let me know if you see anything, all right, Bilbo? Or if any of your things disappear, come find me!"

Bilbo smiled and waved as I headed out to the busy courtyard, hoping to find someone less likely to get tangential on me.

Fortunately for me, the next person to catch my eye was Singlis' husband Oldreth, who looked to be finishing work (he baked in the kitchens) and enjoying a few minutes luxuriating in the sun before heading home.

"Oldreth, hi," I said to him as he gave me a friendly nod. "Do you have a moment?"

"Certainly," he replied with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, you see, there's been a string of burglaries around Imladris of late, and I'm going around asking people what they know about it," I began as I sat down beside him.

"Funny that you should mention that, actually," Oldreth said, sitting up now. "Handir told us last night that a painting had disappeared from the library yesterday."

"Oh, really?" I said with interest. Handir, Oldreth and Singlis' eldest, had grown to be a very sweet, very talented librarian, where he happily indulged his love for both books and contemplative silence day in and day out. I saw quite a bit of him whenever I was in the library, but due to the new duties that had arisen, I'd barely set foot in the place this last year.

"Mmm. For my part, I haven't seen or heard of anything suspicious, but it might be prudent to speak with him," Oldreth said. "He was quite shocked by it all."

"I might just do that," I said. "Thanks very much, Oldreth. Oh, and by the way," I made a gesture of relish, "those sticky buns today were _to die for_. Magnificent."

Oldreth beamed. "Ah, excellent. I thought it would make a nice surprise for Lord Elrond, so I'm pleased to have good reviews before they reach him."

"Ah, you and Singlis are such good eggs," I said, smiling happily. "Anyway, I suppose I'd best be off so I can speak to your boy. See you around, and thanks again!"

With that, I ambled down the halls to the library where a slender, silver-haired Elf with a kind, gentle face was carrying a large stack of books away from a table.

"Oh, Rhodri!" he said to me in pleasant surprise, depositing the books into a small trolley. "Hello! I haven't seen you in here for quite a while now. If you keep staying away like this, the books might not recognise you anymore." He grinned playfully as he started to wheel the trolley over to a shelf.

I snorted. "Don't remind me, Handir. Things have gotten awfully busy lately, which is what brings me here, in fact."

"Is that so?" he said. "What is it that you seek?"

"Well, there's been some theft going on of late around Imladris, and it's fallen to me, Glorfindel, and Erestor to do some investigation. I just spoke with your father, and he told me that something had been taken from the library?"

"Ah, yes, the painting," he groaned. "Come, I'll show you."

He led me to a wall close to the front door where a cluster of paintings and sketches hung. There was a small section where the wood panelling was a few shades darker, which I guessed was where the stolen painting had been.

"I'm not sure how much you've looked at the paintings on this wall, but the one that was stolen was of the Harbour of Alqualondë."

"Oh, yes," I said as I recalled the picture. "Yes, it had the swan boats, didn't it?"

"That's the one," Handir confirmed with a sad nod.

"When did you notice it had disappeared?"

"I think it must have been in the middle of the day," he replied, wrinkling his brow a little. "I glance at the paintings now and then from my desk over there," he gestured at the librarian's desk a few metres away. "I'd seen them in the morning, and I was looking at them as I ate lunch, but then I went into the back to restore a book, and the next time I sat down, I saw it was gone. That must have been an hour or two later."

"Do you know who was in the library at the time?" I asked.

Handir shook his head. "I was quite absorbed in what I was doing at the time, unfortunately."

I chewed on my lip thoughtfully. "Hmm. Well, I'll see what I can uncover. If it's all right with you, Glorfindel, Erestor or I might come and ask a few more questions later."

"Certainly," he said with a kindly nod. "Best of luck finding out where it went, Rhodri. I hope it's not gone for too long."

"I'll do what I can," I replied with a cheery smile. "Thanks for the help. See you later!"

With a wave, I was off again, feeling like I was no closer to any kind of a breakthrough. The only thing I was sure of was the relief I'd felt that the burglar had made off with one of my least favourite paintings in the place. Time to find Glorfindel and Erestor and see how much progress they'd made.


	58. The rare triumph of ineptitude

**Author's note: ** CW: gets fairly sexy for a bit in this chapter. On a completely different note, hope you fine bunch are well and drinking your water! Be sure to look at something happy or pleasant today! Surviving is more than enough and I'm confident that you can do the thing!  
**Edith:** I've never been able to find someone who completely resembles how I'd pictured Rhodri. As far as features go, I always imagined her to have straight, cool brown hair, light grey eyes, and pale skin. lf I had to name someone who looked like her, it'd be the actress Jessica de Gouw with a slightly longer nose. Rhodri is much more expressive and animated, though, and her face is very dynamic. When I picture her getting excited, she basically looks like a librarian on speed.

**Elizabeth:** As far as I know, the origin of Orcs is a little bit debated, but I do believe that it happened shortly after the Awakening of the Elves. Melkor was the first of the Valar to find out about them and visited them before any other Valar could reach them. He fed them lies about how a rider (Oromë, in this case) was going to come and mislead them. Those Elves he managed to convince came with him, and he kidnapped and tortured them, their mutilation turning them into the Orcs.

**Gail:** Nah, sleepwalking isn't born of loneliness. :D It's usually because the part of your brain controlling emotions and movement is still firing on all cylinders when it should be asleep like most of the other non-vital bits. Usually because you're overtired or have a substance in your body that shouldn't be in there.

Glorfindel and Erestor had depressingly little to report. Their conversation partners had nothing of any interest regarding crime occurring in their lives, nor had they seen anything suspicious happening of late.

I told them about the stolen painting, which saw a return visit to the library in short order. After inspecting the wall, Erestor made a few notes and plastered poor Handir with questions about who was in the library at what time.

Beyond that, we had no idea how to proceed. The library had seen people coming and going all day, as usual, and since Handir had been closed up in the back room for a large block of time, anyone could have come in.

"I'm not sure what else we can really extract from the information we currently have, Erestor," said Glorfindel as he rubbed his eyes and stretched a little. I glanced out the window. The sun had started to bow out for the day, and we only had a short window of time to get to dinner and then training.

"Perhaps we should leave it for the day," I said as I gestured at the fading daylight outside. "It must almost be time to eat now."

As if on cue, the dinner bell rang. Nodding to each other, we bundled our notes up and I stuck them in with the patient files, locking the drawer with a _click_ before we dashed out to stuff our faces.

Early the next morning, some few hours before breakfast, I sat at my desk with a strong cup of tea and a slice of bread, poring over the notes we'd made yesterday. Glorfindel was sprawled out on the couch, tea in one hand and a list of prospective horses on offer in the other (we had just struck up a new transport deal with Rohan). A knock came at the door which made us look up sharply.

"It's open!" I called out.

The door opened to reveal Erestor standing with his hands behind his back.

"Good morning," he said, giving us a shy but friendly smile.

"Hello, there," Glorfindel and I returned in chorus.

"How come you're awake so early, Erestor? I've never seen you up and about at this hour," I asked.

"I've had a thought," he said, turning a chair to face the both of us and sitting down.

"Oh?" Glorfindel sat up with interest, almost sloshing his tea everywhere as he did.

"What if the culprit is right under our noses?" Erestor continued, looking at the both of us with wide (and rather tired) eyes.

"I can guarantee it's not me," I said, holding up my hands and shaking my head quickly. "That painting was absolutely hideous. If I wanted to take artwork, I'd have purloined that watercolour of Mithlond that Elrond has hanging above his desk. And it can't be Glorfindel, because I'd know about it if he did," I jerked a thumb at Glorfindel, who was about to say his piece on why he was innocent.

"No, no, not you two," Erestor said, shaking his head in agitation. "_Elrond."_

Glorfindel and I stared at Erestor like he'd just slapped us.

"You must be joking," I said with a shocked laugh. "Elrond? Steal something? This is the same guy who gave me half of his scoop of ice cream once when I complained some of mine had dripped onto his plate."

"Not _intentionally,_ Rhodri!" Erestor said, now quite exasperated. "What if he sleepwalks?"

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "During the day? To steal paintings from the library?"

Erestor's face froze. "Oh. Hm. I had forgotten about that part," he murmured quietly.

"Erestor, what time did you go to bed last night?" I asked, watching him closely.

He shrank into himself a little as he mumbled something about "two hours ago."

I pointed at my door. "Go back to bed. I don't want to see you awake for another two hours."

Erestor looked at me like I'd just asked him to murder his father.

"You heard me," I said, raising my eyebrows at him. "Friends don't let friends suffer from sleep deprivation. If you don't leave by the time I count to ten, Glorfindel and I will march you back to your room in front of everyone."

"I can't believe this is happening," he whispered. "_I'm_ the sensible one!" He jabbed a finger into his chest.

"One…" I held up a finger.

Sighing loudly, Erestor relented and with a downcast wave, shuffled out of the office.

"'Sensible one' my arse," I muttered to myself as I returned to my notes.

A tiny snort came from Glorfindel's direction, and all fell silent again.

When the time for proper breakfast rolled around, we ambled out and after eating, along with Elrond and a more rested Erestor, went to Elrond's study to deliver our report, such as it was.

"So in short, the only thing we've uncovered is that there's been one more theft," I said to him. "It might be well to do a little more asking around to see if anyone else has seen anything unusual, but for now, we've reached something of a dead end."

Elrond chewed on his lip, not pleased at all. "No new information about Narsil at all?"

Glorfindel shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid not."

Elrond sighed. "Most unfortunate. Well, thank you for the report, you three. I'd better let you get on with your day, I suppose."

We all made for the door, Erestor leaving first.

"Oh, and Rhodri, Glorfindel," came Elrond's voice from behind us. Glorfindel and I turned around.

"Mmm?"

"Don't forget that tonight is an early night, no training," he said, not looking up as he was busily writing.

"Goodness, Elrond, you'd think we were absent-minded, the way you carry on sometimes," I said with a grin.

"Oh, but incidentally, thank you for returning our rocks," Glorfindel piped up.

"Oh, yes, sorry, I forgot to thank you for that," I said, nodding. "Feel free to do the same thing with any other possessions we might accidentally leave in your office. Though perhaps next time, just leave them to the side of the doorway so I don't accidentally step on them in the dark."

Elrond turned around now, looking thoroughly bewildered.

"What in heaven's name are you two _talking_ about?" he asked, face screwed up in confusion.

"The… the rest of our rocks?" Glorfindel said, now also quite puzzled. "When you reminded us to take them with us, we only grabbed some of them, so you put the rest in front of our door later."

"Helpful _and _petty," I praised him warmly.

Elrond blinked at us and then shook his head. "I have absolutely no idea what you're speaking of now, but you can be assured that once you took your rocks with you, I had nothing more to do with them."

I put my hand over my mouth as my mind flashed back to the day we took out those rocks to show them to Elrond and Bilbo. We gave half the rocks to Bilbo and half to Elrond to look at, and Bilbo started telling stories that distracted us…

"Good lord," I breathed. "I think it might be Bilbo."

"_Bilbo?"_ Elrond repeated in surprise.

"He was the only other one in the room," Glorfindel said slowly. "Perhaps he pocketed the rocks and forgot about them."

"And what of Narsil? And the painting?" Elrond returned sceptically. "He had a reputation as the burglar before, when he was in with Thorin's band, but he is too well-off to desire the possessions of others for himself. He has nothing to gain from taking those things."

"He doesn't need to," I murmured to myself.

Elrond and Glorfindel looked at me in curiosity. "What do you mean?" Elrond asked.

"Theft isn't always born of a reasonable need or desire for the object," I replied, tapping my fingers against my face.

"It couldn't be Bilbo, surely-"

"Well, who else was in your study the day after we came home and showed you the rocks?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "The next day was very short, if I recall, because that was the day everyone was in bed early."

"Only you two and Erestor," he admitted, musing for a moment before looking at us in shock. "Goodness, it couldn't be Erestor, could it-"

"I'm certain it isn't," Glorfindel said over the top of him. "He's too much like you in that regard."

Elrond sighed. "Oh, dear me. This is an unwelcome development." He shook his head in disappointment. "How do you intend to prove it was Bilbo, then?"

"Ah," I said. "That's a good question, actually. I don't really know what people do here to get the proof for that, but I know where I came from, authorities could give temporary permission to search the suspect's dwelling if they had reasonable suspicion something illegal was going on."

"That seems a little extreme, don't you think?" Glorfindel said, looking surprised.

"For this sort of thing, yes," I agreed. "I don't really know what else to do, though. Let me think on it for a day or two and I'll get back to you."

§

I don't know what I was expecting. Well, I do, as a matter of fact. I had rather hoped that if I sat in my office with the window open, the solution would blow in and fall neatly into my lap. I never said so out loud, lest I be laughed out of Rivendell and onto the next boat west. Even so, though, that didn't dim my hopes that I would miraculously be spoon fed an answer.

Two days passed, and no such thing had come to pass. I remained as unqualified as ever to approach our suspect and establish his innocence, or lack thereof as the more likely case was.

Word had started spreading around that Glorfindel, Erestor, and I were the ones to talk to if things went missing, though, and sure enough, even though ideas were lacking, crime was not. According to a horrified Nathron from the weaver's, an entire jar of high-quality indigo dye (blue was still a rare and luxurious colour for clothes) had disappeared. Gildor, who oversaw a lot of the internal affairs, had advised the day before that his bottle of wine that he'd left in the kitchen was gone. From what we'd seen, however, Bilbo was living quite a normal-looking life, working on his book, enthralling people with stories, and falling asleep in public places.

If it had been anyone else, I would have just confronted them directly about it, but I had a funny feeling that however I tried to approach Bilbo about it, he would deny it. He wouldn't even engage with me when I went to ask him if he'd noticed anything unusual, launching into a story about how he was swindled by his cousin. I wanted to avoid confronting him if possible, but at this rate, I didn't know how else I was going to get an answer out of him.

I decided while eating dinner that I would pluck up the courage to find Bilbo the next day and talk with him about it. It wasn't going to happen tonight, because it was one of the off-days where Elrond assumed we would be fast asleep at the stroke of seven.

"I'm honestly not sure how to go about bringing this up with Bilbo while being sure he will give an honest answer," I admitted to Glorfindel as seven o'clock fell and we entered our chambers.

"I don't suppose there is much to do about it, my love," he replied as he hung his robe up on the coat rack. "If he is confronted with the evidence we have and finds a way to explain it, it could well be true. You could, perhaps, try to look into his mind a little to see if he is lying." Seeing me grimace at that, he quickly added, "Or, perhaps, you could ask Elrond to do that part. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

I sighed and rested my head against his chest. Glorfindel chuckled as he stroked my hair with one hand and slipped my robe off with the other.  
"Ah, Rhodri. Your fear of abusing power is really very endearing." He stretched his arm out and hung my robe on the rack with his.

"Well, no sense in using that energy for nefarious purposes when there's plenty more delightful things to keep me busy," I murmured as I sought his lips. Glorfindel let out a tiny moan and kissed back so hard that I would have overbalanced if he didn't have a hand on the back of my head. I was surprised. I was usually the one to snap like this, whereas he liked to stir me up and tease me as long as he could get away with it.

"You broadcast to me that you're mentally taking me out of my clothes all day, and now you're taken aback that I respond when we're alone?" Glorfindel panted as he moved his head away, his brows a little knitted and eyes glittering lasciviously.

Ah, that explained it. I had indeed let my mind wander a few times over the course of the day, and I shamelessly had made it quite obvious to him where my thoughts had ended up.

"My apologies, beloved," I whispered as I brushed my lips over his, moving my head away as he tried to catch them. "Had I known it distresses you, I never would have done it."

He looked horrified, but I cut across him before he could say anything.  
"To be fair to me, though, it is _terribly _hard to resist indulging a little fantasy or two every once in a while." I bit my lip and moved my hand down his chest and over his stomach, stopping just where his pants started, prompting a hard exhale from Glorfindel as his hips jerked a little. "You really are thoroughly intoxicating."

I shrugged gently and walked away from Glorfindel to the bed, casually letting my pants drop to the ground as I went. "Not to worry, my love, I know better now. In future, I'll keep my daydreams to myself."

And, as if right on cue, I heard footsteps pick up behind me as he caught up and overtook me, his shirt already off as he stood between me and the bed, watching me with quite open lust now. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Please, Glorfindel, have a little mercy," I purred, making my eyes as big as possible. "I just told you it's nearly impossible to resist you, and here you stand looking even more ravishing than usual? It's intolerable cruelty, really."

Before I could take another step, Glorfindel snatched me up and kissed me so hard he nearly broke my nose, his tongue in my mouth before I knew what was going on. A small, involuntary moan escaped me, which only seemed to encourage him, his grip around me tightening as he pressed me firmly against him.

"You can do whatever you want with me," he murmured as he came up for air, his eyes glowing.

"Anything?" I asked, my own body getting hotter as I traced a finger up his powerful thigh.

He shuddered. "Anything," he whispered.

"So if I wanted to kiss you again, I could?" I suggested, kissing everywhere near his mouth that wasn't his lips.

"Yes," he breathed.

"What if I wanted to lick you?" I enquired as I trailed my tongue along the smooth skin down to his belly button. A hissing sound came from Glorfindel as he slowly let out a puff of air.

"Please do."

"How about, say, _suck _on you?" I lightly ran my hand over the less-than-subtle bump at the front of his pants.  
"Anything, I promise," he gasped, his ragged breathing now very audible.

I leaned into his face and sent my tongue up the side of his ear. "Well, to be frank with you, beloved, I want you," I said in a hushed voice, "in a rather carnal sense."

"Have me then," he moaned as he tried to press himself against me.  
"Take off your pants and get on the bed first, please," I said with forced steadiness as my skin practically hummed with arousal. "I don't want to cause any injury should I… ah… _lose control of myself_ for a moment."

He didn't need to be told twice. He was completely bare and on the bed in seconds, and I only needed a couple more myself before I joined him.

One need not be a psychologist to work out what happened in the few hours that followed that rather heated exchange. I thanked my lucky stars as we fell asleep that the rooms were so well soundproofed, because had they not been, Glorfindel's roars might have been heard as far off as the Grey Havens.

When I awoke at the usual 2:30am, Glorfindel was still out cold, which was unsurprising given the conditions of the earlier evening. That didn't lessen the fact that I had a hankering for a snack of some kind, though, and so, being the slave that I am to my digestive system, I got dressed and went downstairs to the kitchens.

As I reached the corridors, I took a moment to feel the balmy night air on my face. It was a beautiful evening, and I didn't even try resisting the urge to step outside a little and look up at the stars.

My eyes passed over the upper floors of the house on the way up, and as they did, I noticed a shadow flit along the corridor of the level above me, straight past my office.

Afraid an errant Orc had made its way into Elrond's house, I shot up there as fast and silently as I could and snuck along the corridor behind it. It paused by the area with the sculptures, and as I chanced a look at it, it cast a distinctly un-Orclike silhouette in the moonlight. It had a head of curly hair, for a start, and was rather rotund. It cast a furtive glance around before it before it slipped over to where the remains of Narsil were displayed. The curly-haired shadow produced a pointy-looking thing from under one arm (I nearly gasped at the thought of the safety risks that posed) and placed it on the marble slab with the other shards. I waited for it to step away again before I spoke.

"Hello, Bilbo."


	59. In poor taste

Bilbo gave such a start that I was about to instinctively start looking around for a defibrillator. He let out a shriek and leapt a foot in the air.

Afraid that the impact of hitting the earth from such a great height would hurt his bones, I put out my arms, caught him, and lowered him gently to the ground.

"Rhodri, what on earth-"

"I wanted something to eat and saw you up here as I came out of the staircase," I replied with a shrug.

Bilbo scowled. "Could you walk a little louder next time so that I can hear you coming?"

I nodded. "Certainly, but I did intentionally move surreptitiously this time. Come, let's talk in my office," I said, gesturing for him to follow me.

"I'd rather not, Rhodri, if you don't mind," he said from behind me with a yawn. "I find I'm quite tired and would like to try and sleep again."

I turned around and made sure to stand in the moonlight as I arched my brow at him.

"This isn't really an opportunity you want to pass up, Bilbo," I returned in a mild but slightly warning tone. "If you'd rather, though, you can deal with Elrond's hurt and disappointment on your own as you try to explain why you've been stealing. I'll happily report what I've seen and let you two sort this out between yourselves."

"You have no proof of anything," Bilbo snapped, looking worried now.

"Oh, please," I said, rolling my eyes. "Who gets up at such an ungodly hour to put away a sword hilt unless they're trying not to get caught? Nobody else would be afraid to do it in broad daylight here because they know Elrond is missing it."

I sighed. "Look, Bilbo, I'm not judging you. I don't think you're a bad person for stealing, but I think you need help to stop doing this. And I can give it to you, if you want it."

Bilbo wouldn't meet my eyes. His head was now hung and he nodded gently.

"Come, then," I repeated. "Let's sit down and talk for a little bit." I held out a hand for him to take and slowly ambled back to my office with this tiny, ancient Hobbit in tow. It was such a relief to be able to shed my poorly-played detective role and finally step back into things as a psychologist.

"Now, for this to work, you will need to be completely honest with me, just like I'm about to be with you," I said as I launched into the confidentiality spiel.

"But in this instance, I am obligated to tell Elrond because this is quite a serious breach of law here," I added afterward, passing him a glass of water. "But if you'll let me disclose what is going on to him, I think he will be very gracious about it all."

Bilbo, who had been staring at my desk this entire time, nodded sadly. "Very well," he mumbled.

Nodding back, I passed him the forms to sign, and when he had done that, the session had begun.

"Tell me about when you started taking things," I requested as I hunted around for a pen and paper.

"Oh, only very recently," Bilbo said. "Since coming here, in fact."

"The temptation to take things wasn't there before?"

"Not in the Shire, no," he replied. "As I travelled here, I started wanting to take things that weren't mine, like mushrooms and eggs, and I did help myself from time to time. Only when my supplies had started to dwindle and the householder looked unfriendly, though. It got harder to resist over time, though."

"Harder to resist, you say?" I said with interest, finally finding a piece of paper and starting to write.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Here in Imladris, I find myself almost completely unable to withstand the urge to steal things."

"Do you do it because you need them?"

"No," he said, now quite upset. "I don't understand it! I have no need for those things, and I don't even want them. I have everything I could possibly wish for, but when I see it and the desire takes me, it's unstoppable!"

"Tell me a bit more about this urge you get, Bilbo," I bid him. "What happens in those moments between seeing the object and taking it?"

Bilbo sighed and brought his glass of water up near his mouth before quickly setting it down again. "It comes out of nowhere, Rhodri," he said, looking like he was describing a mythical monster as he spread his fingers out in a small burst. "I see the thing, and then the urge sets in. And it's all I can think of when it's there. Pressure and nervousness build in me until I could almost pass out. It's so overwhelming that the only thing I can do to quieten it is to take the object."

"So when you've actually taken it, it goes away?"

"For that moment, yes," he confirmed. "It's a relief to return to normal again, but I hate doing it. I already have a reputation as a burglar, and now I'm living up to it quite well, it would seem."

Bilbo looked desperately ashamed of himself as he wrung his hands woefully, and I felt terrible for him.

Everybody will experience the desire to have something that doesn't belong to them at one time or another. Perhaps it's a piece of chocolate someone across from you on the bus is enjoying. It could be a fascinating but outrageously priced book you find in a bookstore. Maybe it's a Lamborghini you see parked near your workplace, and you can readily picture yourself looking absolutely gorgeous behind the wheel of that roaring beauty.

However, the vast majority of us are very easily able to accept that we cannot simply take the thing, because it doesn't belong to us. On that basis alone, most people are unwilling to steal, and even in desperate situations such as poverty or a serious need for the object, folks will usually exhaust all other options before even considering theft.

When the urge to take things doesn't die down, though, and it's not driven by a need for the object or to make use of its value (e.g. stealing a jewel to sell off), we start to enter the realm of kleptomania, and I could be of some help in managing that.

"So you're aware that you don't have any real use for the objects you take, you say, Bilbo."

He nodded.

"You're not hearing a voice, for example, telling you to steal something?"

"No, no, nothing like that," he said heavily.

"Are you doing it to get back at someone, or to make a statement of some sort? Showing anger or something like that?"

Bilbo's eyes widened. "No, not at all," he said, shaking his head fervently. "No, that's the worst part. I am very happy here, and Lord Elrond and everyone else is so kind and hospitable here. I feel so terrible for doing it..." He buried his face in his hands.

"I'm just so _tired_, Rhodri," Bilbo choked after a moment as he wiped the tears off his cheeks. "The urges have become so strong, and I don't have the energy to resist them any more. But I try to make things right. I return them after a few days when others aren't looking."

"Like with Narsil tonight, huh?"

Bilbo sniffed and nodded.

"Are you doing this all by yourself, or are others helping you?"

"No, I do it all alone."

"Well, I have an idea of what the problem might be, but I need to ask a few more questions first. Can we talk a little longer?"

Bilbo gestured, inviting me to speak.

"How's life apart from this? Things like your mood, how well you're sleeping, that sort of thing."

"Oh… well, guilty, but otherwise quite all right, I suppose," Bilbo answered noncommittally. "I sleep as much as ever, which is a lot. I still work on my book often. I eat well enough, though the guilt makes me lose my appetite a bit. I take walks and admire the scenery. All fairly normal, really."

"No sudden surges of energy that keep you up all night, or feeling invincible enough to do a lot of risky things?"

"Goodness me, no," he said with a little laugh. "Not at my age, Rhodri. No, I'm quite content with my short walks and Elevenses."

"Right," I said with a nod, striking a line through the words _manic episode. _"Okay. Here's the thing. I don't think this is your fault."

Bilbo looked astonished. "You don't?"

"No. I think you have a condition called kleptomania, which refers to irrepressible urges to steal things. I can give you treatment to help you manage the urges, and like I said before, I think Lord Elrond will be very gracious about it all, but," I held up a finger now, "stealing _is_ a destructive behaviour that impacts others, and now that you know you have a problem, you are morally responsible for being honest about the issue with Elrond and me, and pursuing treatment to keep the condition under control."

Bilbo nodded quickly. "Of course," he said.

"Jolly good. Well, we won't start treatment now, as it's an ungodly hour. I'll speak to Elrond about this in the morning, but before I let you go, I need to know what it is that you've stolen while here."

Bilbo listed all the things that had already been reported to me, plus a pair of leather gauntlets from the training yards and a small bag of sweet potato seeds, which I scribbled down to show Elrond.

"Okay. I think that'll do us for now," I said, putting my pen down. "Don't worry about trying to return anything more tonight, just get some sleep. We'll start treatment after lunch, all right?"

Bilbo nodded, slowly got up to his feet (he was 111, after all), and with a friendly goodnight, he was off.

I locked Bilbo's file away in the drawer and left the office, slipping back downstairs to get the snack I'd been after all this time. On one of the benches in the kitchens, I spotted a bowl of the first apples of the late summer harvest. They were rosy pink and were almost rock hard to the touch- my favourite kind of apple. I took one for myself and one for Glorfindel and scarpered back to our chambers.

Though I had attempted to enter the room as quietly as possible, Elf ears are pretty damn good, and Glorfindel was finally well-rested enough to be stirred by it.

"Hello," he murmured with bleary affection as I stepped inside and shed my clothes.

"Good morning," I answered warmly, holding up an apple for him to see. "Fancy a snack?"

"Ooh, that looks good," he said, a little more awake now as he sat up and accepted it.

As we sat in bed crunching noisily, I told Glorfindel about my run-in with Bilbo, though I neglected to mention any of the therapy aspects.

"Goodness me, the things I miss while asleep," Glorfindel mumbled through a mouthful of apple. "It sounds like things were rather exciting there."

"That's one way of putting it," I conceded as I caught an errant drop of juice on my tongue. "In any case, Elrond will need to know first thing after breakfast."

"He'll be glad to have Narsil back," Glorfindel mused.

"Mmm. I wonder what he'll think of Bilbo after all this…" I wondered aloud as I placed both our apple cores on a plate by my bedside table and licked my fingers clean.

"Hard to say, really," he replied, sliding back down a little as he rested his head on my chest.

Since neither of us could be bothered to stir our stumps and get out of bed for the day, we went back to sleep until the sunlight started to billow in through the windows and shine in our eyes.

At breakfast, I saw that Bilbo was sitting at another part of the table, eyeing me nervously now and then as I made small talk with Glorfindel, Elrond, and now Erestor as well. When we had eaten to elegant sufficiency, I asked Glorfindel to take Erestor to his study and fill him in on what had happened so that I could show Bilbo's file to Elrond.

"My goodness," Elrond said after I explained what Bilbo had divulged to me. "This is really quite extraordinary." He sighed and shook his head in disappointment, pacing around gently.

"I have a theory as to why this is happening now," I said as I twirled my pen in my fingers. "Only a theory, mind you."

"Mm?"

"I think it's that ring he had."

Elrond's brow wrinkled and his eyes widened a little. "Oh?"

"I don't know for sure what that ring does, but assuming he left the ring in the Shire when he moved out here, I think he's experiencing some issues as he withdraws from ownership of it."

"Goodness me," Elrond breathed. "The irresistibility of it…"

"Yes!" I said with a nod. "Exactly. I don't doubt the ring had tempting properties of its own, and he probably indulged those now and then, and now that it's gone, his brain has replaced those urges with something else."

"Then this isn't his fault at all," Elrond murmured.

"I don't think it is, no, but I do think it behooves him to seek treatment. He knows he has a problem now, and can't just keep stealing things. You should know, though, Elrond, that the treatment I offer him might not be completely effective. He might sometimes be unable to master the urge, and steal again."

"Something will have to be arranged, then," he muttered, brows knitting as he resumed pacing around the room.

"Yes. I would suggest nominating yourself or me as a safe person he can come to when he has relapsed and taken something so that we can handle the matter discreetly."

Elrond sat quietly and tapped his lips with his finger. "Yes, very well. I suppose I had better speak with him," he said heavily.

"Do, and if you speak to Glorfindel or Erestor about it, don't divulge details about the therapy. Tell them he is in my care now; that is all they need know. If anyone else asks about it, the issue has been handled and the objects have been returned."

He conceded with a nod.

"I'd better start drawing up a treatment plan for him," I said, excusing myself.

"Could you send Bilbo to me while you're out, please?" Elrond requested politely.

I gave him the thumbs-up. "Consider it done."

Fortunately, Bilbo wasn't far off, having found himself a lovely spot in the sun in the courtyard downstairs. He watched me apprehensively as I strolled over to him, not looking even vaguely comforted by my smile.

"I suppose I have to speak to Elrond?" he asked.

"It's in your best interests to," I said with a small nod. "Don't worry about it too much. Just be honest with him. I've already told him what he needs to know." I clapped him on the shoulder and helped him to his feet as we wandered back up to Elrond's study.

Alone in my office, I started pondering how to even approach this. If that ring was really responsible for how his brain managed impulse control, would I be able to provide any assistance that could override that? Would Bilbo have to simply be monitored and have his room raided every so often to empty it of whatever he had nabbed through the course of the day?

I drummed my fingers impatiently on my desk. One of the main means of treating kleptomania is aversion therapy, which tends to be quite effective in a fairly short space of time. Most people hear about it in the jokey context of zapping someone with a cattle prod or snapping a rubber band on their wrist every time they go to fulfil their urge. Things, in other words, that are unpleasant and make the consequences seem far too unpleasant to be worth the gratification of indulging the impulse. Most of these measures involved physical punishment, which seemed awfully unsuitable for someone of Bilbo's (very) advanced age. I was already afraid for him doing a tiny jump in the air. Zapping? Pinching? Absolutely not.

Except, I realised, there was one sense that I had quite overlooked. Hobbits loved food. They were exceptionally good on the fang, and were real connoisseurs of flavour and texture. The ultimate foodies. If I could find something that tasted terrible and had no real consequences healthwise, it might be just the thing to put Bilbo off.

In my lightbulb moment, I slammed a hand on the desk triumphantly and made my way outside, where I stopped dead. Where on earth would I even go to hunt up something foul tasting? I very much doubted that Singlis and Oldreth would appreciate me fronting up to their kitchen and asking if they could supply me with something that would entice a person to lick the road.

Ah, but medicine, though! Didn't everyone bitch about some nasty concoction they'd had to force down their gullet for the sake of their health? Granted, there was much less of that here, but there was undoubtedly something here.

I fronted up at the hospital wing where the head healer, Gildin, was working. She was a terrifically funny person who had a real gift for surgery and concocting pharmaceuticals. When times were more peaceful and we were blessed with an hour or two of the Q-word (see **Nurse Notes**), she'd come to my office or I'd visit her at work and we'd knock back a cup of tea, talk clinical, and indulge our shared love of medical humour.

Gildin, who was busying herself with the preparation of some sort of anaesthetic, turned around at the knock I made at the door, her almost blue-black wavy hair rippling out as her head flicked around.

"Oh, Rhodri!" she said, beaming at me. "Haven't seen you in a long time! Come and hold this bottle for me while we talk." She beckoned me over cheerfully.

"Sounds like a plan," I said, smiling broadly back at her as she passed me a large glass receptacle that had a metal funnel sitting in the neck.

"Now, I want to hear your news, and while you're at it, swirl as I pour," she instructed as she tipped several phials of liquids into the funnel at once.

"I'm here to pick your brain on something, actually, Gildin," I said as I gently sloshed the liquids around.

"Oh, yes?"

"Mmm. I'm on the hunt for a substance that does nothing but tastes bad."

"Does nothing…?"

"Except taste bad, yes."

"That's an interesting one. What's that going to be used for?"

"Ah, it's part of a technique used to break bad habits, see. You take some of the foul-tasting concoction as you go to indulge in the bad habit, and it's so unpleasant that you don't want to fulfil the urge any more."

"My word, that's fascinating," she breathed. "That should be enough swirling to combine them, I think, thank you, Rhodri."

I nodded and handed her back the bottle, which she took and sealed up, labelling it with a name and date before putting it on the shelf with the other tinctures.

"Do you know of anything that would do that, though?" I continued. "Nothing comes to mind for me."

Gildin sat cross-legged on a stool, her ice-blue eyes shining as her mental hamster sprinted on the wheel.

"Nothing in here, I don't think…" she replied slowly, shaking her foot thoughtfully. "But I do remember that there was a weed growing in my yard that I ate once as a child. I don't remember the name of it, but it was the worst thing I had eaten in my life, and there were no side-effects. It grows abundantly in the summer, so I imagine there's plenty of it there now. Let's go and have a look for some!"

Gildin bounded off her seat, and together, we made our way to her place, which was situated a short walk from Elrond's house, just before the valley started to slope downhill.

We strode into her yard and started looking around, and a voice called out to us as a woman materialised at the porch whom I recognised as Gildin's mother.

"Gildin! Oh, and Rhodri, hello!"

"Hi there, Henemír," I said sunnily, waving at her.

"Hello, Naneth," Gildin replied. "We're looking for a plant."

"Oh?" Henemír stepped off the porch and strolled over to us.

"That weed I ate as a small child, the one that tasted terrible."

"Ah, yes," Henemír said. "Saerlas, you mean?"

"That's the one," Gildin said, snapping her fingers as the lightbulb went on. "It's not poisonous, is it?"

"Not at all," her mother replied. "The taste is punishment enough, I think."

"Just what I need," I murmured. "Do you mind if we pick a few bunches of this, Henemír?"

She laughed. "Please, take as much as you like. It means less for me to clear out later."

I grinned. "Thanks very much."

Fortunately, the weed was a rather juicy one, so two bunches ended up giving us a good half cup of liquid when we ground it down and extracted it.

"Are you going to try any yourself, Rhodri?" Gildin asked me, a wicked grin passing over her face as she did.

I pursed my lips hard, looking at her reproachfully. I absolutely did not want to, but it seemed rather unfair to make Bilbo use it without even knowing what it was like myself.

"I'll have some if you do," I said after a moment.

Gildin bit down on her lips and glared at me briefly. "All right, then," she accepted. She went over to the mortar she'd used to grind it up, where some of the plant was still left, and brought it over.

"Take some out of here so you don't use up the liquid."

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" I looked at her fearfully.

"Most definitely," she said with a confident nod.

I took a deep breath and grabbed some of the saerlas pulp out, as did Gildin.

"Your very good health, Gildin," I said, toasting her with it as I put it on my tongue.

Well, as God is my witness, my head nearly collapsed in on itself as the flavour hit me. The pulp had the texture of pond scum and melted all over my mouth, coating my entire oral cavity with the most bitter, foul, burning taste that I'd ever had the misfortune of experiencing. I looked up briefly, eyes watering to buggery as Gildin put a fraction of the amount of pulp she'd taken out into her mouth. She looked very displeased, but nowhere near as distressed as I was. I dropped to my knees, ready to claw my face off with my hands as I reflexively swallowed and the truly bitter flavour hit the back of my tongue. I heard a sniggering and knew Gildin had just played a magnificent joke on me.

At the other end of the room, I heard a panicked Elrond say, "My goodness, Rhodri! What's the matter?" and his footsteps drew near as I groaned into my hands like a dying animal.

Silence fell as I weakly pointed a finger at Gildin, willing myself not to be sick on Elrond's shoes.

"Saerlas pulp" was all she said.

For another moment, everything was still, and then I heard a gentle wheezing sound. It grew louder and louder, interspersed with a tittering that turned into a bona fide howl of laughter that I hadn't heard Elrond make in ages. It almost made it worth the thousand deaths I suffered in the meantime as I kept swallowing to try and wash the flavour out of my mouth.

Somehow, I don't know how, I got to my feet again and shambled out of that room, liquid in hand and leaving Elrond and Gildin to continue screaming with laughter. It was time to make my way to the kitchens to genuflect at the chefs' feet and beg them for a piece of cake.

**Psych Notes**

**Kleptomania**

A: Repeatedly being unable to resist the urge to steal things that the person doesn't personally need or can make use of through its monetary value.  
B: Experiencing a growing sense of tension right before the person steals the thing.  
C: When they steal the thing, the person feels enjoyment, gratification, or relief.  
D: The person isn't stealing to show their anger or get back at someone, and it's not because of a hallucination or delusion.  
E: The person isn't stealing because of another mental disorder, e.g. a manic episode or anti-social personality disorder.

**Differential Diagnosis  
**Anti-social personality can be ruled out almost immediately with Bilbo, because by all accounts he is not the type to recklessly and remorselessly engage in a variety of criminal behaviours (fights, thefts, damaging property, etc) that can harm or hurt others. As for a manic episode, Bilbo has maintained a rather quiet life alongside his casual theft. Naps, food, walks. Nothing reckless. Nothing suggesting delusions of being invincible, grandly powerful, or exceedingly wealthy. He's just a little old man who steals stuff, honestly. In someone of Bilbo's age, it's also worthwhile checking for dementia, but Bilbo himself showed no outward signs of forgetfulness, personality changes, or a loss of ability to do things that he could before, so out the window goes that theory.

**Nurse Notes**

The Q-word is… -glances around- _quiet._ It is an unspoken rule among nurses and other healthcare professionals that you _DO NOT_ say that word while on shift, no matter how miraculously peaceful and tranquil the ward has become. Even if it's empty. Even if you haven't seen a patient in hours. Even if you're looking for something to do! Saying the Q-word automatically breaks the charm, and you can bet your bottom dollar that the second the word escapes your lips, the ward will fill up, and you'll have paperwork and medical emergencies out the wazoo. I'm not joking. Don't say the word. For the love of healthcare workers, pick any other word.


	60. Aversion and extraversion

It took a couple of goes to get the message across at the kitchens, as I was doubled over and largely nonverbal, but a very alarmed Singlis was eventually able to work out that I had just eaten something hideously awful and urgently needed a flavour replacement. She was kind enough to feed me a mouthful or two of cake, after which I was finally able to regain my capacity to speak in multiple-word sentences. Uttering my eternal thanks, I skipped lunch and went back to my office to wallow in self-pity.

I had absolutely no intention of making Bilbo suffer like that every time he got the urge to steal. I couldn't square it with my conscience to inflict that kind of cruel misery, even if I'd had about eight times the recommended dose and Gildin had managed her own small taste perfectly well. I wasn't thinking too well at that point.

That didn't mean the saerlas juice wasn't a viable solution, though. Just that it was going to be the last resort, and hopefully one we wouldn't ever be in need of.

I decided instead to start with a more positive, inspirational approach: systematic desensitisation. Yep, the same technique that cured phobias also had terrific effects in managing disordered impulses. I passed my lunchtime mapping out some ideas for that and strumming away on the guitar, enjoying the gentle breeze that blew through my open door. I was calm at last, and finally had that god-awful taste out of my mouth. Things were looking up.

And then I got the most unpleasant reminder of who my neighbour was as I heard a familiar cackling. I looked up sharply and saw Elrond chortling to himself as he looked straight at me on his way to his office.

"One more guffaw out of you, Elrond, and I'll personally string you up by your toes and flog you senseless with a wet fish!" I shouted, waving a finger at him wildly.

My threat did not carry the weight I had hoped it would, Elrond only chuckling louder as he turned and disappeared into his study. As he did, the unfortunate Bilbo was revealed to have been walking behind him the entire time and had been subjected to this entire spectacle.

"Oh… ah, hello, Bilbo," I said in a falsely cheery tone that in hindsight must have made me come across as a serial killer.

"Is that how you punish people, Rhodri?" Bilbo asked with a laugh as he strolled inside and closed the door.

"Only Lord Elrond, my love," I assured him with a smile. "Now, how are you doing? Are you ready to get started?"

"Quite fine, thank you," he replied, lowering himself into a chair and accepting the glass of water I offered him. "And yes, I think I'm ready."

"Right. Well, it's pretty simple. You won't have to spend much time in my office practicing. Most of it will involve real-world application. I've got two exercises I want to teach you today, and both of them intend to change how you feel when you get the urge to take something."

"Fascinating," Bilbo said, tapping his fingers together and waiting for me to continue.

"This first one is what I would like you to try first. Takes practice, but it'll make a difference in the long run," I began, and we spent the next fifteen minutes covering the breath control and progressive muscle relaxation techniques.

"Now, when the impulse to steal comes over you and starts getting overwhelming, that's when you want to start doing your breathing or relaxing your muscles. That way, it won't reach that point where you get so flustered you have to steal it to get some relief. Make sense?"

Bilbo nodded.

"Here's where it gets a bit more involved," I continued. "While you're doing that, I want you to picture yourself successfully resisting the urge to steal. Something like walking away, feeling calm and relaxed, for example. Luckily, you have a rather vivid imagination, so I don't suppose it will be too difficult to summon something like that," I smiled at him.

Bilbo smiled back. "I'm certainly keen to give it a try," he said.

"That's the spirit," I replied encouragingly. "If you can, try keeping a journal so you can track your progress by the day or so. Or even once a week, if you make a note of how you think things have been going, you'll see if it's having any effect. It's not going to work overnight, but with practice, it should make things a lot more bearable."

"I don't think I'll have any issue in doing a little more writing," Bilbo said with sparkling eyes.

"I didn't think so," I chuckled.

"And what of the second exercise?"

"Ah, that one's much more straightforward, but ideally, you won't have to use it. If you find the urge is too difficult to resist, I want you to take a drop of this on your tongue," I produced the bottle of Melkor's own liquid. "Just one drop, mind you. It's more than enough, I promise."

Bilbo inspected the bottle as I handed it to him, holding it up to the light in fascination. "What's this, then?"

"That is the juice of two handfuls of saerlas weed," I said with a small, involuntary shudder.

He took the stopper off the bottle and sniffed it, recoiling as he did. "Oh, gracious me, not bitterweed!"

"Ah, you know it, then?"

"_Know _it? My dear Rhodri, this wretched weed was encroaching on my garden in the Shire for years before Sam Gamgee started handling affairs! And what's more, it's long been a beloved method of discipline for errant Hobbit children."

"You sound much better acquainted with it than I am, which is a very distressing thought," I breathed. "I tried a spoonful of pulp today so I knew what I was dosing out to you, and it was… hellish." I closed my eyes for a moment before continuing.

"Anyway, the idea with the bitterweed juice is the same as disciplining the children, except you take a drop on your tongue _before_ you commit the theft. It'll teach your mind to not want to steal because all it does is get a drop of saerlas juice instead."

Bilbo winced a little but nodded. "I understand. Terribly unpleasant way to learn though, Rhodri, I must say."

"You can see why I primarily encourage the use of the former technique, yes?"

"Mmm," he hummed with a wide-eyed nod.

The session was starting to draw to a close, and I felt the temptation rise in me to ask him about the ring that I suspected was driving much of this issue. Did he still have it with him? What did he know about it? Could it have been the one Sauron was after?

The questions swirled around in my head, but something in me decided that it was best not to enquire, or even to share with him my conjectures about the ring's impact on his mind. Feeling I lacked the time to decide if this was rational or not, I instead decided to call it a day.

"Try those two things out for two weeks and then come back in and we'll take it to a review, yes?"

"Excellent. Yes, I shall give it a try," Bilbo said with a smile, sliding off his chair and heading for the door.

"Oh, Bilbo, before I forget," I quickly spoke up as my memory kicked in just in time.

Bilbo turned around.

"Did Lord Elrond mention anything to you about having a safe person that you could come to if you slipped up and took something?"

"Ah! Yes, he did, as a matter of fact," said Bilbo, taking a few steps back toward my desk now. "He said I should come to you both if it happens again and that we will make a plan together that is agreeable for all of us."

"Cool," I gave him the thumbs-up. "That'll do fine, I think. Well, Bilbo, best of luck through the week. Come see me any time if you're having any troubles and we'll take a look at a few more relaxation methods together, eh?"

"Very good. Thank you for the encouragement. I'll see you again soon!" With that, Bilbo walked out with the bottle of evil saerlas juice and hopefully a motivation that wouldn't flag too much as the weeks passed.

I didn't really have time to sit around and doodle cartoon chickens between sessions as I usually did. Not given how much paperwork I'd missed out on doing while handling this whole thing with Bilbo. Letting out a puff of air, I got up and was about to leave my office to go and pester Elrond when Erestor showed up at the door, smiling gently. In one hand, he held almost an entire ream of paper, and in the other were a couple of plates piled high with sandwiches.

"Oh, hi there, Erestor," I greeted him happily. "What's occurring?"

"Hello," he replied shyly. "Do you want to do paperwork together? Elrond and Glorfindel are in a meeting, and aren't likely to come out for some time yet."

"Look at you getting all social!" I remarked excitedly, clapping my hands with delight. "Good for you! Yes, come on in. Do you want to work at the desk, or on the couch?"

"Hmm, the desk, I think," he decided.

I pulled up a chair for him and we both sat at my desk, conversing as we worked in a way I hadn't ever imagined was even possible for Erestor. In fact, he seemed to be of the mindset that we had several thousand years' worth of background information to catch up on now that we were Proper Friends. Without very little prompting on my part, he opened up readily, and as it happened, Erestor had a very interesting life story.

He was born a couple of years after Gil-Galad, and they were two of the only Elven children at the time. They were both very young when Melkor broke the siege of Angband and Erestor, along with Gil-Galad and their mothers, were sent away to the Havens of Falas, away from the chaos that had erupted around them. The two grew up under the tutelage of Círdan, who oversaw the Havens at the time, and there they stayed until Gil-Galad's father died and Gondolin was lost, making him the new High King of the Noldor. Everything else seemed to go to pot after that, with Beleriand sinking into the sea, and Erestor followed Gil-Galad as a trusted advisor, along with Elrond who had come into the picture now, to establish the kingdom in Lindon.

"Wow," I breathed. "So you'd been by his side all this time, huh? Amazing. You've certainly seen a lot in life, haven't you?"

"I most certainly have," he replied with a laugh. "And what of you, then? You promised me faithfully that you'd tell me about where you came from," Erestor said, giving me a look of playful reproach.

"Hah," I said under my breath. "That's quite a long story, too."

"I have all day," he returned, getting comfortable in his seat. "Please start when you're ready."

"It has to stay between us, though, Erestor," I replied. "I tell most people that I'm from the West and they never ask further because I make it seem like a gross imposition to explain any further."

"Of course," he nodded quickly. "You have my word."

After offering him my condolences in advance for having to listen to such an implausible tale, I proceeded to give him a brief account of my life in London and the vanishment. Erestor didn't even try to multitask now as he listened in aghast silence.

"It all just… disappeared?" he whispered when I had finished talking.

I nodded slowly, feeling a pang of sadness. "Seven and a half billion people on that entire world, and I'm the only remaining vestige of any of it," I murmured half to myself, half to him.

"I can't believe it."

"Oh, that's just the start of it," I said with a laugh that didn't quite veil the scorn that momentarily gripped me. "You don't even know who I _am_ yet."

"Wh-what?" He looked totally flummoxed now.

I leaned forward in my seat until I was almost slouching over the desk. "This is also to remain secret. Especially this, in fact. I can't impress on you enough how important it is that it doesn't get out to anyone." I looked at him without any hint of levity on my face, and though taken aback, Erestor nodded and guaranteed that whatever I divulged was safe with him.

"My other name is Vinyaten," I began. "I was born during the Ainulindalë. That name was given to me by Tulkas, who is my Vala."

"The Ainulindalë?" Erestor repeated, puzzled. "But you said you were born in London!"  
"I was born twice," I elaborated.  
"But the only things that were born during the Ainulindalë were the Valar and the Maiar."

"I'm aware of that."

"And Tulkas is your Vala? You speak as though you are a Maia yourself."

"My goodness, you catch on fast," I replied, a cheeky smile turning up the corners of my mouth now.

"I can't believe we have known each other so long and yet at the same time knowing nothing about each other," Erestor murmured in amazement.

"Tell me about it. I had no idea you'd lived the kind of life you described to me," I replied, equally wowed. "But I find that the more I learn about you, I like you even better, which is something all great friendships should strive for."

Erestor smiled a warm, genuine smile. "I feel quite the same way," he said.

"Well, you know what, I think it's about time you learned about the Bib-and-Brace Club."

"The what?" he echoed blankly.

"You've probably seen Glorfindel and me out in the gardens with those funny, colourful suits on, right?"

"Oh, yes, the obnoxiously colourful outerwear, that's right," Erestor said as he appeared to remember what I was referring to.

"The very ones," I confirmed. "All five members of the Bib-and-Brace Club have a set in their own colour and design. We meet when we can to garden and enjoy each other's company. Want to become member number six?"

"Oh, my!" He looked very intrigued now, and his face broke out in a smile. "I would love to be a part of that. Who are the other members?"

"Let's see," I said as I started to count out on my fingers. "Me, obviously, then there's Glorfindel, Bregedúr, Elrond, and Celebrían." I'd counted out six members now, and a seventh finger started to flicker up. "I'd always planned to ask Gil-Galad as well, but the timing wasn't right when he visited, as we were preparing for that huge battle against Sauron." I winced at the memory. "And then, of course, it was too late."

Erestor bowed his head sorrowfully. He hadn't been present for the battle; Elrond had entrusted the running of Imladris to him in our absence.

"I remember the day you four returned," he said softly. "You didn't come out of the music room until the next day. I was looking for you and found you all asleep in the corner there. And Gil-Galad wasn't with you…"

I drew my knees up to my chin and shook my head. "No, he wasn't. I'm afraid I was just a fraction too late there, too."

Erestor's eyes watered quite profusely as he wrung his hands a little. "Was it quick, Rhodri? Did he suffer?"

"Oh, it certainly was quick," I said, my voice dripping in acrimony as I fought the urge to shatter something. "He was gone before he even hit the ground."

He looked a mixture of relieved and devastated all at once.

"I thought I was going to go out of my mind with grief when I found out," he murmured.

"How come you ended up out here in Imladris, Erestor? You've been so afraid of talking with people; if you weren't scared to talk to Gil-Galad, it would have been so hard to throw your social life away like that. And then when he visited, you were never really there. I'd never have known you two had ever been friends."

"It's true," Erestor acknowledged, "but it was the better option, I think."

"How do you figure?"

"Things change, Rhodri. Sometimes it's better to start afresh than to linger on in doubt."

"You're keen on being cryptic, aren't you?" I said as I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Indirectness makes it all hurt a little less," he replied simply, giving me a tiny, sad smile.

Well, hadn't I put my foot in it. I reached out and put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, mate. I hope I didn't probe too hard. Are you all right?"

"Not entirely," he answered, "but it's not your doing. I think I had rather hoped you would ask, to be honest."

"Should we leave the topic?"

Erestor glanced up at me and then looked away. "We don't have to…"

"If you want to talk about anything with me, you know I'm happy to listen to you."

"I don't really know how to talk about it," he murmured, cheeks darkening a little.

"So I should continue probing, is what you're saying?"

Erestor's whole face was bright pink now as he nodded.

"Did you go with Elrond because you had a fight with Gil-Galad?"

"Not entirely, no," he answered. "Nothing was said in anger or ill will, at least. It was entirely my own choice to leave. Gil-Galad didn't ask it of me at any point."

"Did he want you to leave?"

"No, I don't think he did," Erestor uttered, shaking his head sadly.

"So what prompted the need to start afresh, then, as you put it?"

Erestor sighed, slouching back in his chair. "Things changed. I started seeing him differently, but I don't think the way he saw me ever really did."

"Differently as in… _that _way?" I raised my eyebrows at him, reluctant to use my words.

Fortunately, Erestor understood and nodded, saying, "Mmm, I'm afraid so."

"Are you quite sure he didn't feel the same way? Did you ever say anything?" The words were out before I could stop myself.

He paused. "I did not."

"Did you ever have any indication that he absolutely did not feel that way about you?" I'd already started asking intrusive questions now, so I figured I might as well go the whole hog and plough on.

"I did not," he repeated.

"So you can't actually be certain."

"Well, he didn't say anything!" Erestor exclaimed, suddenly quite frustrated.

"Honey, are you aware how long Glorfindel was making eyes at me before I became aware of it?" I asked him with a pointed look. "Some people really aren't good at deciphering this kind of thing. I might never have known if he hadn't spoken up."

I hadn't really pictured myself being the person in Middle-Earth to give romantic advice to friends and colleagues. It really wasn't my cup of tea, and I much preferred clinical interventions over doling out agony aunt-esque "he'll never know unless you tell him" aphorisms. Give me a thousand Bilbos over one of these.

"It doesn't really matter anyway, Rhodri," Erestor groaned. "It's too late to say anything."

"Well, I doubt he's still dead, Erestor," I said with a shrug. "He'll have been reborn and is probably frolicking around in Valinor now, waiting for the rest of us to show up and make nuisances of ourselves again. If you want to move on, do, but otherwise, I wouldn't say throw it all away."

"It's been quite some time since I came to Imladris with Elrond, and I still feel the same way as I did when I turned thirty," he said quietly.

"It must have been sad for Gil-Galad that you moved so far away like that, and never getting to see you much even when he was in Imladris," I murmured, watching his face curiously.

"It wasn't for a lack of trying," he admitted. "I intentionally left most of the reporting to Elrond and only delivered what news I had to before making my excuses and leaving him. I… I think it hurt him, Rhodri." He hung his head in shame, looking thoroughly aggrieved now.

"You know what I think you should do, Erestor? Not just for Gil-Galad's sake, but your own."

Erestor looked up, wiping his eyes. "What?"

"Write him a letter, get some of this stuff off your chest. There are people departing for Mithlond every so often who I'm sure will happily take it with them for you."

His mouth fell open. "Rhodri, I can't just write him a letter like that and have a _stranger_ deliver it! What if they read it?"

"Won't be an issue if you use a pseudonym," I winked. "Come on, you'd known each other for thousands of years, you must've had nicknames for each other at some point."

"Hmm. As a matter of fact, he did have an epessë for me," Erestor murmured thoughtfully.

"Do others know about it?"

"No," he shook his head.

"Good, well, keep it that way, and sign off on the letter with that. If you're happy enough to leave it to me, I'll get a whole bunch of letters from people who want to send messages to the Valinor folk and appoint one person as mail-carrier. They'll be under a lot of scrutiny from their boatmates, which will make it much less likely that they do anything like open the mail. What do you think?"

Erestor bit his lip nervously but nodded.

"You don't have to send it if you don't want to, Erestor," I said gently. "There's no obligation. Even if you just write it and keep it to deliver to him personally, at least you'll be getting the thoughts out of your head and onto the paper so that they don't eat at you."

He nodded again, but this time looked visibly more relaxed and taken with the idea.

"Hey," I said as a thought bounded into my head, "you want to see a memory before we get back to work? I think you'll get a laugh out of it."

Erestor, looking very intrigued now, accepted. In a flash, he was in my head, going back to the day I had to have that dreadfully awkward conversation with Gil-Galad about the rumours about the two of us being a couple.

It was after dinner and I sat in my office, fixing Gil-Galad with a look that set him on edge.

"Rhodri, why are you glaring at me like that?" he asked nervously as he followed me to my desk. "Did it not go well?"

"Sit down, please, Gil-Galad," was all I said, gesturing at the chair in front of me.

"But what's the matt-"

"You need to sit down first."

Bewildered, he did as I asked of him and watched me silently, seemingly afraid to say anything more in case I got crabby with him.

"Oh, god, this is so awkward," I whimpered into my hand before forcing myself to look up at him.

"What is it, Rhodri?"

"Do you want to know what Elrond said to me this afternoon?"

He nodded fervently.

"He offered me congratulations."

Gil-Galad frowned. "Oh. What about? Should I congratulate you, too?"

"No, you absolutely should not. Apparently people think that the reason you're in my office all the bloody time is because we're _courting!"_

Gil-Galad's mouth fell open in the most uncouth manner I had ever seen from him. His eyes were wider than dinner plates and I heard a vague choking sound come from the back of his throat. The guy looked like I'd told him he was pregnant.

"I'd better get you an emergency wine, I think," I said as I stood up and left him in my office, marching straight over to Elrond's study and rapping smartly on the door.

"Rhodri, hello," Elrond said in surprise as he opened the door and saw my face. "Is everything all right?"

"It's been better," I said shortly. "I need wine for Gil-Galad, if you've got any to spare. I just had 'the talk' with him, and he's positively apoplectic."

Without another word, Elrond darted over to the small wine cabinet he kept in the corner and started to pour a very generous glass of wine.  
"Are you in need of one, yourself?" he enquired as he filled the glass up.

"No, thanks," I replied. "I'll be having a very strong cup of tea after this and then the earliest night on record."

Elrond walked back steadily with an almost-full glass of red wine and handed it to me cautiously.

"Bless you, Elrond. You're a top friend," I said gratefully before wishing him goodnight and carefully stepping back to my office.

"Here, drink this," I said to a scarlet Gil-Galad as I placed the wine on the desk.

He slowly picked up the glass, and as he held it near his mouth, I couldn't resist but say, "Your drink matches your face," smirking at him.

He'd drained half the glass before setting it back down and trying to find words.

"Listen, Rhodri, I- there's been an enormous misunderstanding here- I'm really terribly sorry about all this. I- I mean you're a _very_ nice person and one of my dearest friends, but really, I just-

"Gil-Galad, calm down, I'm not-"

"_Wonderful_ as friends, I think, and it's nothing personal at all, just not my sort of-" he rabbited on, almost off his rocker now.

"Gil-Galad, _please-"_

"I really only like black hair, anyway-"

"Oh my god, Gil-Galad, will you _shut up!" _I wailed over the top of him.

That was enough to silence him, and he watched me in shock as he waited for me to speak.

"Look, I think you're lovely, but you're not my type, either. Let me assure you that I feel nothing beyond the deep and abiding affection of a _completely platonic_ friendship."

"I'm not what you seek, either?" he squeaked in relief.

"I seek nothing, Gil-Galad. I haven't the time, what with all of…" I waved my hand, "_this_ going on. Besides which, I prefer blondes," I murmured off-handedly.

Gil-Galad sighed and relaxed in his chair, letting his limbs sprawl everywhere.

"I suppose this means fewer visits to you for a while, then?"

"It does if you don't want people to continue entertaining the little fantasy that you'll be sticking a ring on my finger," I said, fixing him with a beady glare.

"Understood," he said with a compliant nod.

"Good. Now, much as I enjoy your company, I want you to finish that wine and depart my office as soon as may be. It's bad enough people catch us alone during the day, let alone after dinner."

He didn't need telling twice. He knocked the glass back in record time and was out like he'd been catapulted.

The memory closed, Erestor shot back into his body and stared at me for a moment, a huge grin over his face.

"Pretty amusing, wasn't it?" I said with a smile.

He laughed and nodded.

"Interesting that he said he likes black hair," I added, glancing at the top of his head. "You appear to have that, too," I remarked casually. "Not a very common hair colour here, is it?"

Erestor touched his hair, a blush creeping over his cheeks. Without another word, I returned to my paperwork, Erestor doing the same after a moment with a smile that didn't disappear for some hours.


	61. Memoirs of a bluefly

**Author's note: ** Excuse the long comments, folks! I'm not the best at keeping my word count down, in case the 200 000-ish words I've bashed out over the last 2 months didn't already give that away. :P Hope everything's plodding along calmly and safely for you lovely folks. You're fabulous and absolutely should have another glass of water to keep your fluids up. I'm proud of you!

**earthdragon:** sorry for the delay in response- regarding your question about Bilbo sleepwalking, he's as likely as anyone else to do it. Perhaps more so, since Hobbits need more sleep than the average Elf would. I can't see it contributing to his kleptomania, though. You'd need a fair bit of subtlety to nick a painting from the library without anyone else watching, and as sleepwalkers are known for their gracelessness, I can't imagine him doing it without arousing suspicion.

As for the saerlas juice, it's part of a technique called aversion therapy, where you train your brain to associate indulging in certain activities with bad things. This is done by pairing the impulse with something unpleasant. Basically, you punish yourself whenever you do the bad thing so that you stop wanting to do it. The foul-tasting fingernail polish you mentioned is a spot-on example of that. To look at it in practice, we'll assign some monetary values to the nail biting process. Brains love acquiring money, and always look for ways to get it (even when those ways make no sense). In the normal sequence of events for a nail biter, you'll get a $10 debt when you feel the urge to bite. Indulging it and biting will usually give you about $10 or $11 in prize money which automatically pays off the debt, maybe gives you a little extra if you get some satisfaction out of it and not just relief. When you apply the nail polish, biting it will give you a $30 debt. Biting only gives you $10 or $11 in prize money, though, so it's not "worth" the expense of biting your nails, as you've used that to pay off the urge. It's better to be $10 in debt and learn to live with it than throw $30 down the toilet to indulge a vice you don't enjoy much anyway. The brain realises that it's not worth it after a few unhappy rounds of loss of money, and that's why you usually get put off doing it.

Hypnotism usually requires extra qualifications, though it's an unregulated field that just about anyone can do, for the most part. I have no qualification at all in hypnotherapy, and I've put people under. It doesn't have very robust evidence to suggest it's effective- certainly not in the way cognitive behavioural therapy does, which is what Rhodri practices. If you or anyone else reading this wants to do hypnotherapy, be sure to only engage people who have good qualifications from recognised institutions, ideally those with qualifications in psychology or psychiatry as well, as it can have some worrisome effects when done wrong, primarily the creation of false memories (see the chapter "Of spaceships and sunshine" for more info about false memories).

**Tallulah: **Yeah, conveniently, Rhodri and Glorfindel were both virgins. I would argue in theory that it probably wouldn't matter if Rhodri hadn't been while in London, because she was never bound to the sex = marriage thing the way Elves are. So far as I know, that's really only a thing for that particular race. Rhodri's always been one of those pragmatic types who really buckled down in academics and wanted to direct all her energy into building up a successful career and getting established, which she did... well, at least until the bloody world got swallowed up. She was reaching a point where she was ready to start thinking about that sort of thing. Late bloomer, you know?

§

When Elrond and Glorfindel had concluded their meeting, Erestor disappeared, muttering something about writing a letter. Seizing my chance, I marched into Elrond's study and informed the two of them that I had a hankering for sweet potatoes, which were only now starting to be harvested.

"Ooh, so we're going to garden?" Glorfindel said, his face shining.

"If you're up for it," I grinned. "It's been a while since we donned our magnificent overalls. What do you say, you two?"

Glorfindel cooed and jittered in his seat excitedly, and Elrond gave a small laugh.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" Elrond said softly. "Yes, it might be nice as a little change of pace. When did you plan on doing this? Tonight?"

"Ah, no, not tonight," I said as I shook my head. "I'm a little busy. How about tomorrow night, after Happy Hour?"

This seemed agreeable to Elrond and Glorfindel, and just like that, tomorrow evening was pencilled in. I made a point of not mentioning the newest member, wanting it to be a surprise.

Rubbing my hands together like a gleeful fly, I left Elrond's study and hurried back to my own office to start work on Erestor's overalls. His own pair were to be fire engine red, with pastel purple loops embroidered on the legs.

Fortunately, my day tomorrow was relatively uneventful. Much of my work involved reading through stacks of paperwork- mostly trade and military agreements, and occasionally noting an opinion or suggestion, before signing off and giving it to Elrond. Happily, this made for a rather hands-free sort of job, meaning I could mindlessly sew all day long. I finished the job the next day and downed tools just before Happy Hour was due to start, heading out of my office with the overalls in hand. Erestor was just leaving Elrond's study as I did, and I chucked them at him without getting his attention first. He let out a shocked screech as the overalls covered his face, and I stood there, shaking my head at him as he quickly pulled them off and packed them away under his arm, looking very panicked indeed.

"Really, Erestor, with that kind of fearlessness, I can't believe you haven't got an army of your own," I commented, smiling impishly. "Put those on and then come get me from my office."

Intrigued but compliant, Erestor nodded and disappeared quickly.

I sauntered back into my office, leaving the door wide open as I put my feet up on my desk and strummed my guitar mindlessly until Erestor showed up again a few minutes later.  
"Oh, now, don't you look a treat!" I said to him, admiring my handiwork. Erestor beamed.  
"You know, Rhodri, these are really very comfortable. I always thought they would be too tight to walk in, but they are very nice indeed!" Erestor looped his fingers around the straps like some kind of supermodel farmer and happily rocked back and forth on his heels. He was of a finer, slimmer build than Glorfindel and Elrond were, but the looser look seemed to suit him quite nicely.

"Glad you like them," I replied genially. "Welcome to the club. Let's go show the others, eh?"

He nodded excitedly and I went and knocked my signature knock on Elrond's door. As the voice within granted me entry, I stepped in, gesturing to Erestor that he should hide a little behind me.

I glanced out the window to the balcony, where Elrond and Glorfindel were already sitting, making conversation and looking out at the gradually sinking sun.

I stomped out to them dramatically, and they looked up at me in confusion.  
"Meet the newest member of the Bib-and-Brace Club," I announced loudly, grabbing Erestor by one arm and hauling him out onto the balcony. Erestor was blushing furiously as he clasped his hands behind his back and smiled shyly.

"Oh, _yes!" _Glorfindel cried, grinning from ear to ear as he got up and clapped his hands joyfully.

Elrond, in his usual quiet way, was similarly pleased and put down his wine to grip Erestor's shoulder in delight. "Excellent, excellent. Just the person we'd been hoping for," he said, which just about had Erestor's waterworks up and running again.

"Well, chums, it's going to be an absolute zinger of an evening," I declared with relish as I took Glorfindel's chair and helped myself to his wine.

"There were three other seats to choose from!" Elrond gently scolded me. Glorfindel, shrugging, plonked himself onto my lap and took his glass back.

"Storm in a teacup, Elrond," I replied breezily, shifting Glorfindel a little so that he didn't obstruct my view of Elrond rolling his eyes at me.

§

The couple of weeks I'd given Bilbo to trial out his new brain rewiring techniques went by in a pleasant sort of uneventfulness. You know the score: food, paperwork, train, sleep, repeat.

The only thing that had really started to change was the way Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel and I had begun spending the majority of our working hours together now. Prior to that, there was seemingly an implicit expectation that after we updated each other in the morning, we would retreat to our own working rooms, mostly for the sake of the introverts. Glorfindel and I, always keen for company, would often sit in his or my office and work together when I didn't have a client to see, but Erestor and Elrond were invariably left alone until the afternoon catch-up.

Now, though, something had shifted. Erestor's sudden increased desire for contact was understandable, now that he had suddenly developed a social life. Though I think he was still quite the shy and retiring person by nature, he certainly showed a greater appetite for interaction than I ever would have guessed of him two weeks ago. Watching it unfold was a fascinating and hugely rewarding process.

That Elrond had also developed such a desire for interaction, however, had me worried. He did not have the reserves to constantly be around people- even us- the way he was doing now.

Not that Elrond was constantly in our faces or anything of that kidney. Rather, he had started subtly asking us not to leave after our morning meetings had concluded, saying things like, "You need not go if you don't want to," or arranging for Glannen, the housekeeper, to clean our offices very regularly.

I had the feeling his desire to keep us close by came down to a couple of things. One, we had proved ourselves to be much less distracting when in the same room than he had anticipated. Two, it was handy to just turn our heads and speak to each other rather than get up and go to each other's offices. Three, and this was probably the most substantial reason: I guessed Elrond had started becoming afraid to be alone with his own thoughts. Though he was still in good humour and full of wisdom and advice, I could see that it took a little less to set him on edge than before. The years of hard stress were starting to wear him down, and I worried that he was going to burn out before too long.

As usual, though, Elrond had no interest in therapy, and that on its own drew the matter to a close. If I was honest with myself, I had started to regret not stepping back and let Elrond spin out very early into the picture. Maybe then he would have sought therapy with much less of the burden than he had now. Now everything was beginning to take a serious toll, and it was my own fault for indulging the coping mechanisms he'd set up, solving his problems for him. I should have shown him how to ask for help. All that I could do now was keep going as I had started, keeping him afloat with quick fixes, which meant staying in his office as long as he wanted us there.

The four of us were clustered together in exactly this manner when the day before Bilbo's follow-up session, a certain grey-clad, grey-haired someone rocked up. We'd been quietly chipping away at our colossal workloads and serving as chairs for Moth and Borgil (the apt name Elrond had given his orange moggie).

"Well, look who it is!" I said cheerfully as Olórin came over and took a seat on the couch with me. Moth and Borgil both were instantly taken with him, departing Elrond and Glorfindel's laps without so much as a backwards glance as they both curled up on his knees. Olórin didn't quite know what to make of them but seemed to instinctively understand that it would be most unwise to disturb the animals.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, Olórin?" Elrond enquired as he passed the wizard a glass of water. "Not that you ever need a reason, of course, but Bilbo gave the impression you've been incredibly busy of late," he added quickly.

"That would not be an exaggeration, I don't think," Olórin answered as he accepted the water with thanks. "My stay here will be quite brief. I'm merely passing through on the way to meet with the Rangers, who roam a little north of here presently."

"What's happening with the Rangers that tempts you there?" I asked curiously.

"I seek Aragorn. I intend to task him with the capture of Gollum," he said as he absent-mindedly started stroking one cat with each hand.

"It took us months to convince them to stay on our laps like that," Elrond croaked enviously as he watched this totally unfair plastering of affection unfold. Glorfindel nodded sadly, his head resting in his hands.

Olórin smiled broadly in what appeared to be an attempt not to laugh at Elrond's uncharacteristic display of covetousness.

"Glorfindel," I said to him, "you'd better go and sit in Elrond's lap, otherwise his glumness is going to completely derail this conversation."

That did the trick. Elrond stared at me like a shocked fish as he opened his mouth and closed it, no sound coming out at all.

"Eh," I shrugged my shoulders. "That'll do, too." I turned back to Olórin now. "Why do you want Aragorn in particular to do this? Isn't he off working his way up to kingship over Gondor and Arnor?"

"He is indeed, and I personally feel that he is the best qualified to do it," Olórin said with a nod. "It seems awfully imprudent to put the task to anyone less when we consider the peril we could find ourselves facing if Gollum were to reveal any of his knowledge about Bilbo and the Ring to the wrong people."

"So we're sure that Gollum knows Bilbo's name and his whereabouts?" Glorfindel spoke up now.

"He knows that Bilbo's last name is Baggins, and that he hails from the Shire. More than enough information, in short, to put all concerned in great danger indeed," Olórin looked at us gravely.

An uncomfortable silence fell over us, the only sound in the air the gentle purring of the cats.

"So where's that ring now, then?" I broached after a while, my mind having flicked back to the questions I'd wanted to ask Bilbo but decided against.

"Ah, now it is in the possession of Bilbo's heir, young Frodo," was the answer I got. That was of no real informational value to me because I knew nothing about Frodo.  
"Right. And, er, where's he, then?"

"He has taken over ownership of Bilbo's house in the Shire. Don't fret, I warned him to keep it locked away and secret," he said, as if reading my mind. "The Ring is safe there for now. Or at least it will be, provided Gollum isn't captured by Sauron before we can get to him first. Incidentally, how is Bilbo settling in?"

"Well enough," Elrond said. "We had some small issues with petty theft initially," he paused as he caught me watching him sharply now. "But he is under Rhodri's care for that, and we haven't had any problems since."

"Theft, you say?" The wizard raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise. "From Bilbo?"

"Yes, he had been stealing things and then putting them back a day or two later," I said quickly, preferring to navigate the awkwardness of confidentiality issues here without Elrond's input. "The issue is being handled, though, as Elrond said."

"Remarkably little impact from owning the Ring all those decades, all things considered," Olórin murmured.

"Huh, that's what I was thinking, myself," I said under my breath. "That's the second time you've taken the words out of my mouth. God, we could be twins, Olórin."

Everyone in the room turned and stared at me.

"... Gee, tough crowd today."

The two therapies I put Bilbo onto were much more effective than I had anticipated. I had foreseen a relapse within weeks, but even by the first review, nothing more had gone missing. According to Bilbo, though, it was the saerlas juice that had done the vast majority of the heavy lifting in putting him off further theft. Looking through the journal he'd kept, it seemed that it showed in the massively decreasing number of urges he experienced through the fortnight as well.

"Wow, I guess the tastebuds really rule you Hobbits, don't they?" I remarked to Bilbo when I looked up from his journal. "The wonders of a drop of bad medicine, huh?"

"Yes, and I also put about ten drops on my tongue each time," Bilbo replied.

To my intense embarrassment, I got such a shock that I fell off my chair, smacking my chin on the desk as I went down.

"_Ten_ drops?!" I shouted from under the table as I tried to haul myself back up, wincing as I massaged my throbbing jaw.

"I- are you all right, Rhodri?" Bilbo said in surprise as he glanced down between his knees.

"Oh, yes, fine thanks," I croaked, sitting back in my chair. "What do you mean, you had ten drops of that stuff? How are you still alive after that kind of dose?"

"We used to get punished with _twenty _drops of that when I was a lad," Bilbo chortled.

Astonished, I uttered a stream of words that Bilbo didn't understand but knew wouldn't have been allowed to make it into any books in Elrond's library. Old school punishments were terrifying.

Nonetheless, it seemed that Bilbo's use of the drops was doing the trick, and since he was still upright and fairly chirpy, I could only assume no lasting damage had come of his approach. I suggested we plan the next follow-up for in a month's time, which Bilbo agreed to and departed with a wave to get back to work on his book.

Alone now and with only half an hour before training was due to start, I pulled out a blank piece of paper and started writing a letter to Gil-Galad, wanting to get on the bandwagon of free mail delivery.

_Dear Gil-Galad,_

_I hope you actually remember who I am now that you're reborn, otherwise this letter will come across as unsolicited and distinctly creepy. Be assured, darling friend, that there is a backstory behind everything and whatever you don't remember now, I look forward to reminding you when we next see each other. _

_I hope you're doing well there. We still find it hard to talk about you for too long, I'm afraid, but you're never far from our thoughts. We miss you terribly and even now, the silence you've left is deafening at the best of times. _

_So much has happened since you left. I loathe being so vague like this, but I can tell you almost none of it to you at present, as would be too dangerous if this fell into the wrong hands. What I will say is that the situation here has gotten very bad, and I don't see us emerging from this victorious without incurring huge losses-if we emerge victorious at all. Time will tell, I suppose, and you can be sure we are doing what we can to tip the scales in our favour right now._

_You're too late to get a ring on my finger by the way, I'm afraid. At the time of writing, Glorfindel beat you by a few handfuls of yén. Not to worry, I'm sure you'll learn to live with the disappointment. _

_I'll make this all for now, matey. Sorry it's so short, but I promise I'll tell you everything when next we meet. In the meantime, I've enclosed a set of Yahtzee dice and some instructions on how to play in case that memory didn't carry through from your last life. Give it a try, I'm almost certain you'll love it. _

_Take care of Celebrían for us and try to behave yourself until we get there._

_Best love,_

_Rhodri _

I pulled my Yahtzee dice out of a side drawer where I stored my knick-knacks and games. I hadn't touched the dice since Gil-Galad died; I couldn't bring myself to play without him, and thankfully, nobody else had asked me to, either. Scribbling out a handful of instructions on a scrap piece of paper, I folded it up with the letter and stuffed them plus the dice into an envelope, sealing it with hot wax.

With five minutes to spare, I went into Elrond's study, where sure enough, the owner of the room sat with Glorfindel and Erestor, plugging away at their own tasks. I'd mentioned the idea of writing letters to Glorfindel and Elrond the week before, and they were very taken with it. Most of the afternoons before we were due to start training, we'd spend time penning notes to various loved ones and relatives. As the word spread around about a mail delivery to Valinor (known informally as 'letter duty'), we had now amassed quite a large number of letters. This, I felt, was excellent, because nobody would have dared to open Elrond's letters, and if they were to be mixed in with all of the rest of ours, it was a given that Erestor's would remain untouched as well. I was sure of that anyway, since the Elves were really very good about privacy, but that little extra was needed to calm Erestor's overly circumspect mind.

"I've written letters to everybody I can think of," I said as I sprawled out on the floor by Moth, counting off my fingers. "Celebrian- two to her, in fact- an introduction to Glorfindel's parents, and now one to Gil-Galad. Have the rest of you got much to go?"

"I think I've finished as well," Glorfindel said, patting a small stack of sealed envelopes. "Well, as finished as I can be, I think."

Elrond glanced over at the pile of papers to his left. "I'm not sure if I should put these into one big envelope, or seal them individually," he pondered aloud.

"Crumbs," I murmured, eyeing the huge ream. "Are they all for Celebrían?"

"No, no, don't be ridiculous," Elrond replied, shaking his head. He took a few pages off the top, still leaving enough to fill a textbook. "These three pages are for Gil-Galad. The rest are for Celebrían."

"Lord have mercy, she'll still be reading through all that by the time you arrive in Valinor, mate," I said with a laugh. Elrond smiled and rolled his eyes.

"What about you, Erestor?" Glorfindel asked.

"Most of your family is here, so there wouldn't be many to write to, would there?" Elrond said to him.

Erestor shook his head. "No, I've only really written to Gil-Galad. I suppose that's the consequence of a long-neglected social life," he remarked drolly, a curious, lop-sided smile curving up one side of his mouth.

"Well, I suppose that means we're ready to post, then? Once this one's solved his envelope dilemma, that is," I added, nodding at an obviously vacillating Elrond.

"Mm, I think so!" Glorfindel said brightly. "Who's departing for Mithlond soon, Elrond? Anyone we know very well?"

Elrond took a list from the back of his desk and perused it. "Hm. I picked up the wrong list, but it appears Bregedúr will be passing through here as _she_ makes for the West with young Daereth in tow."

"Looks like we've got our packhorse sorted," I said with a smile as I got up and made for the door.

"Where are you going?" Glorfindel called after me.

I turned around. "I'm going to go and write a few more letters and fill them up with sand to make them heavy. Seize my last chance of being a burden on Bregedúr in Middle-Earth, you know?"

"Oh, get back here and help me put these letters in envelopes, you utter buffoon," Elrond said as he beckoned me back exhaustedly.


	62. Some like it hot

**Author's note:** This chapter, and the next one as well, will discuss dementia. That can be seriously confronting for people in a lot of ways, so I'd steer clear of these two if you think it might shake you up a lot. Take care out there, and I hope things are ticking over nicely for you good folk! Be good to yourselves :)

Sondra: Believe me, Elrond was absolutely spitting about the whole thing and wasn't planning to take the imprisonment of his two officials lying down. I think I mentioned it somewhere in a comment to another reader a few chapters back. He was definitely going to get onto Denethor for it- in a diplomatic manner, of course. That he didn't was largely because of Rhodri and Glorfindel's constant coaxing. They both freaked out at the thought of no more flour for cake in the event that an upset Denethor (unlikely as it was) introduced a trade embargo. I'd love to say there was a deeper and more cerebral motivator than that, but honestly, at this point who's even surprised that Rhodri and Glorfindel would choose such a childish reason? Thank god Sauron made rings of power and not cakes or pastries, otherwise this whole thing would have been dramatically different.

Mable: Oh, Erestor's been planned gay since he was caught sleepwalking. You guys guess that certain things will happen in your comments, so there has to be a statistical chance that at least some of you will be right :P I've already got this stuff planned out for some 20 chapters or more. I could in theory ask people not to post about what they think will happen next, but I personally think that's completely unnecessary. Plot spoilers and guesses never really bothered me. :P

Fiona: I'm honestly not sure. I think most of the Elves had light eyes, so grey and blue, but Maeglin was described as having 'dark' eyes, which I took advantage of interpreting as brown. If you can have brown, you can have green, so

§

I was so impressed with Bilbo. He really, really worked at the kleptomania, and managed to get quite a lot of control over his urges. That wasn't even the best part. In an ideal world, a complete and flawless recovery is what psychologists would strive for, and I was certainly able to reach that to a good degree with my Elven clients.

But they themselves are part of an ideal world. Hobbits, Men, Dwarves- they're different. They don't have the luxury of resistance to most mental (and physical) illnesses the way the pointy-eared shiny folk did.

For clients like Bilbo, what I aimed for was a degree of management, but also the ability to be honest with oneself about one's limits, and when the limit was reached, being able to ask for help. And that's precisely what he would do sometimes. The incidents grew fewer and farther between over time, but there were some occasions where he just couldn't divert his urge, and so would come straight to me for a cup of tea and a chat to help untangle things a little.

Not everyone is at a point in life where they feel safe to do that with someone, and that's fine. It takes a lot to be able to do that, and that's precisely why I was so pleased with Bilbo. Being confident to reach out for help was a crucial step in keeping things on the right track, because trying to go it alone in such things is just so difficult.

As the time stretched out between his 'refreshers,' as he called them, the weeks blended together and became months, which ended up speeding by into years. Much of it passed without a fuss, except for a period of weary sadness which came when we heard the news that Gilraen had died. It was hardly of any shock to us; she was 100 years old at the time, but it was a blow all the same, especially to Elrond and Erestor.

It took him a few years, but Erestor, prodigiously gifted in sculpture as he was, created the most stunning likeness of her in the form of a lifesize in-the-round statue. Lovingly made with the last shipment of marble that would come from the quarries in Gondor, the beautiful, wise face of Gilraen's effigy stood watching over the shards of Narsil, where I would presume she remains to this day.

Like before, it became a little harder to get back onto our feet after that, especially for Elrond. Even Glorfindel and I, the clowns of the realm, had to work harder to slip back into our usual jollity.

Happily, some good news did come around the time Erestor had finished Gilraen's memorial. Our wizard friend was pleased to report that Aragorn had successfully captured Gollum and brought him to Thranduil, who was minding him carefully.

_That_ was a huge relief. It meant we had a little more time on our hands to start sending out subtle feelers to our allies, enquiring in a roundabout way if they'd be keen to help us give Sauron a good and proper thrashing.

Some four years after Aragorn captured Gollum, another flaxen-haired visitor turned up in Elrond's halls. He looked about forty and was very tall with the build of a sprinter. He possessed a similarly noble presence to Boromir, but I noticed he wore a breastplate that didn't have that tree symbol on it that was all over the flags and banners in Gondor. Emblazoned on this bloke's gear was a golden horse, which I recognised from the letterheads of documents as the seal of the Kingdom of Rohan.

I ran into this very fellow as I was on my way back to my office from the kitchens, having grabbed something cool and refreshing to take the edge off the incredibly hot day we'd been having. He was walking with Elrond, his cheeks rather red as he slipped off his helmet and carried it under one arm. Elrond and Mr. Pre-Heatstroke had apparently paused in the hall as they saw me stroll out of the kitchens, pressing a bottle of chilled watermelon juice to my face and loudly sighing with relish. I know this because I looked up and saw them standing there, staring at me like I'd just robbed a bank.

I froze and waited in the vain hope that the earth would do me a solid favour for once and swallow me up right there. When the floor was still chasm-free a moment later, I slowly shifted the bottle off my cheek and gave them a lopsided smile (the right side of my face was numb now).

"Ah… good afternoon, gentlemen," I said weakly. "Hope this day finds you both well."

The sweaty blonde gave me a polite smile and inclined his head. Elrond, however, closed his eyes for a second in brief but fervent exasperation.

"Ah, Rhodri, just the person we were looking for," he said after a moment, adding "_Much as I can't believe I'm saying it," _in his head as he shot me the quickest fisheye I'd seen from him.

"_Don't hate me because I'm beautiful, Elrond,"_ I curtly replied over the mental telephone before looking at the both of them and smiling broadly. "Looking for _me?_ My goodness, don't I feel special. What can I help you with?"

"My lady, I am Théodred, son of Théoden, King of Rohan" the possibly sunburnt man introduced himself courteously.

"Pleasure to meet you," I said sunnily, putting a hand over my heart. Though I couldn't catch diseases, I was rather hoping that encouraging a distanced gesture would encourage folks to abandon this ridiculous hand-kissing business that so readily spread infection. I shuddered as I imagined myself walking around with this man's spit on the back of my hand for an hour. "I'm Rhodri."

"You are known to him, Rhodri," Elrond replied, and for a fraction of a second, I could see that he had made to put his head in his hand, only to catch himself in time. "He has come specifically to see you, in fact."

"Ooh, how lovely!" I said in delight. It had been a while since I'd had a visitor, and I was more than ready to make a new friend. "Come this way with me, then, my good man," I said to Théodred as I gestured grandly at the staircase. "We shall make conversation over this bottle of watermelon juice in the cross breeze of my office!"

Théodred glanced nervously at Elrond for a moment, and Elrond nodded as if to reassure him I wasn't an alien who intended to experiment on him. A little mollified now, he followed me as I fondly waved goodbye to Elrond and went up the stairs to my office.

When we sat at my desk, I wiped the bottle where my cheek had been and poured him a tall glass of icy watermelon juice.

"Before we get started, I'd like you to let me know if you start getting dizzy or feel nauseated," I said as I passed him the glass. "I'm a little worried about you there. You look like you're about to overheat and pass out."

Théodred didn't say anything for a moment. I don't think he was used to being spoken to like that, but it was perfectly true. The bloke was coated in layers of leather and metal from head to foot, and his face was starting to go pale. Uneasily, he took a sip of the watermelon juice and sighed.

"As a matter of fact, I am feeling a little odd," he admitted, bowing his head slightly.

I politely took his glass off him and sloshed some miruvor into it, passing it back.

"Just a little tonic for your health," I explained. "Local cure-all. Give it a try."

After taking another sip, he looked much better now, and sat up in his seat.

"I thank you," he said, inclining his head. "Lady Rhodri, I seek your assistance for my father."

I nearly dropped my watermelon juice into my lap. This request sounded terribly familiar.

Théodred looked at me worriedly. "Madam, are you well?"

Not improving his impression of me in the slightest, I gave a nervous, chattery laugh as I nodded quickly.

"Oh, I'm quite fine, thank you," I said, forcing my face into a calm smile. "I apologise, Your Highness. The, ah, heat must have gotten to me for a moment." I took a huge swig of watermelon juice and breathed deeply. "Much better. Do please continue."

Théodred nodded, took another mouthful of his own concoction, and started up again.

"My father, King Théoden, has always been an exceptional ruler, and, if I may speak to you on a personal level, he has been a very loving father to myself and my cousins, whom he adopted after their parents died. In the last few years, however, his health has started to fail."

I gently held up a hand to stop him, and I got up to close the door to my office.  
"Just for privacy purposes," I said as I came back to my seat. "Before you continue, Your Highness-"

"Please call me Théodred."

"Certainly, Théodred. Feel free to call me Rhodri if you wish."

Seven minutes later, the poor sod had run the gauntlet of Boring Technicalities, and now that he'd autographed the bit of paper, we were ready to begin.

My pen and paper at the ready, I said, "Please go ahead and tell me, in your own time, about what's going on with your father."

"That is my concern, Madam. I do not know what it is that plagues my father. He has reached his dotage awfully early, and very quickly, too."

"When you say 'dotage,' what does that refer to specifically?" I enquired.

"He is losing his ability to speak and think for himself. There is no gleam in his eye any more, he seems no longer "with" us in the present moment. He seems to rely awfully heavily on his advisor, Gríma, for everything, and it seems to worsen with the passing of time."

I nodded, heart sinking as I noted all this down. Though I was qualified to diagnose it, I didn't usually get dementia cases in London, as that was more often handled by general practitioners or gerontologists. Going by those few symptoms alone, though, I had the feeling I was about to get one for the first time in a very, very long time.

"How old is your father, Théodred, if I may ask?"

"He is almost seventy years now," Théodred answered.

"Any history in your family of this sort of decline in health?"

"Some, I believe, yes, though not so soon."

Unfortunately, there's never a "too soon" for dementia. Though relatively uncommon, it could occur at any time in life, the youngest known case of a dementia-related illness having occurred in a two-year-old. I didn't say any of this, though, as I looked up at Théodred.

"I can imagine this must be a very difficult time for you, Théodred," I said to him.

Théodred nodded sadly. "Yes," he said heavily, "it has been challenging for all of us. He was, as I said before, a wise and noble king, and to see him so unwell is very hard. He is really not fit to rule any more in his current state."

"I hate to ask these kinds of questions, but do you have measures in place for you to take the throne if some qualified person declares him unfit to rule?" I asked carefully.

"We do, yes, though they can be a little time-consuming," he replied. "Before we proceed with that, though, I was rather hoping you would come with me and examine him. We in Rohan have exhausted all of our medicinal options, and I have heard that you use new methods not seen elsewhere to treat frailties in the mind."

"Would your father actually be willing to undergo assessment, though?" I broached, keen not to replicate that disastrous visit to Gondor. "Or, if he is not in a position to give consent, are you able to at least find someone who is allowed to make those decisions for him?"

"He will, though he is likely not able to decide alone, in which case I will step in as heir," Théodred assured me.

Well, my odds of not becoming a jail bird were a little better this time around. I shrugged.

"Okay. Sure, I'll come along and assess your father. My only stipulation is that I am accompanied to and from Rohan by my husband. He won't know anything about who I will be working with, but we always travel together in these worrisome times."

Théodred looked relieved and happily agreed to my one condition.

"Certainly, Madam. Rohan will be pleased to welcome both of you. Ideally, we would set out for Rohan as soon as may be."

"Tomorrow, perhaps? I need some time to collect the tools for my assessment and pack for the journey. I don't doubt you could use a rest, yourself, after coming all this way," I added mildly.

This was acceptable to him, and we agreed to set out early tomorrow morning.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a rather predictable manner: informing a very excited Glorfindel of our trip abroad, apologising to Erestor for dropping my workload in his lap again, and, once Glorfindel had collected his tasks from him, assuring dear old Elrond that this trip would be different. Less… prison-y, more psychology-y.

"Oh, very well," Elrond said wearily, shaking his head in resignation. "_Please_ be careful, Rhodri. Really. Rohan does not distinguish itself as a particularly safe place at present."

"Nowhere's safe now, old fruit," I said gently to Elrond, patting his shoulder affectionately. "But it'll be all right, you know. Nobody's going to pick a fight with me and come out of it unscathed, let me assure you. Same with Glorfindel. Now, are you going to be all right while we're gone?"

"I'm sure I will manage some way or another," he said in a clipped tone, looking more tired now than I had ever seen him.

I peered at him worriedly. "Elrond, if you're not doing all right, I don't have to go. I'm happy to stay if you need me here, and they could bring Théoden up here for assessment." My voice lost all its reassuring tone, replaced with total seriousness. "You only have to say so, and this will all be called off."

He shook his head gently. "I'm sorry, Rhodri. I was distracted a moment. Be assured that I am quite well. You should definitely proceed with the trip to Rohan."

I looked into his eyes searchingly, and he averted his gaze quickly.

"Don't," he said in a half-curt, half-terrified tone. "There's nothing in there worth seeing, be assured."

"Good god, you didn't think- Elrond, you know I'd never-" I stammered in horror. Had he really thought I was going to just look inside his head like that?

"No, of course, not," he replied quickly, appearing to force a calm expression. "I apologise. Please go to Rohan, do what you need to, and come back to us when you can, yes? Things will be perfectly fine while you are gone."

"I will, so long as you promise me faithfully that you will call us back if you are in need. At any point, just call us. Will you do that?"

He said nothing, pursing his lips a little.

"I mean it, Elrond. You're my family, my best friend. I trust you to tell me when you're in strife. Don't hide it from me." I squatted down to catch his gaze, and he reluctantly looked me in the eye.

He sighed and nodded.

"Swear on my life."

Elrond's eyes widened. "Rhodri, I-"

"I'm not going unless you do it."

"Very well, I swear I will call you and Glorfindel back if I need you to be here," he groaned. "Really, I feel this is a little dramatic."

"You underestimate what you're willing to put yourself through for the sake of others, Elrond. I, however, do not," I said crisply. "Now, let's get to dinner. I'm starving."

"You don't feel hunger," he retorted quietly.

"Ugh, how tactless of you," I said airily, grabbing his wrists and hauling him out of his seat. "Not to worry, I'm sure you'll return to your usual delightful self once you get something nutritious into you. Come on, Glorfindel and Erestor will be waiting for us."

In slightly better humour, he allowed himself to be steered off toward food and friends.

§

Glorfindel and I set out with Théodred before dawn the next day, armed with a change of clothes and a backpack full of assessment tools and forms. It was lovely seeing the countryside again as we travelled further south. The high summer was the nicest time of the year to get about like this, and I just couldn't get enough of seeing the contented cows that stood up to their guts in grass, or being lullabied in the evening by sound of the wind passing through the wheat fields.

Théodred was a lovely sort, though much less talkative than Boromir had been. Boromir, however, was some twenty years younger, more playful, and had not seen nearly as much as Théodred had. All the same, Théodred was very kind and thoughtful, and when we arrived in the capital city Edoras and flocks of delighted individuals stopped him to say hello, it was plain to see that he was equally well-loved by his people.

Edoras sat atop a hill, surrounded by the White Mountain Range that cut through the south of the continent. It was substantially smaller than Gondor, and appeared rather less wealthy and populated as well.

Beautiful though the place was, the buildings appeared to be slowly falling into disrepair- even King Théoden's hall, the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There was nothing golden about the place. It looked like it was moments away from being completely overtaken by some sort of mould encroachment.

Reminding myself that beauty comes from within, I shelved any conjectures I had about the place and followed Théodred inside to say howdy-do to King Théoden.

This action was quickly undone when I stepped inside. There was barely a hint of natural light in the place. I was baffled as to how the hall managed to be so dark in spite of the fairly sizeable windows that went up its perimeter. The only traces of colour to be found were on banners that hung from the ceiling, though even they seemed drained by whatever cloud of misery was hanging in the air here.

Thankfully, the apparent lack of funds here meant that there wasn't such a long, awkward stroll down this hall to get to Théoden. In hindsight, though, a longer hall might have been handy so that I could give Théoden a decent scan before we reached him.

Though he looked to have been a tall man at some point, he was shrunken into himself now. I actively had to suppress the urge to jump back a little when I looked at him, because I had never before seen someone with skin of that colour who was still alive. He appeared to only have two settings: dissociated (zoned out), and suspicious. We were treated to a few cycles of both as we approached his throne.

To Théoden's left there was an unkempt, sallow-skinned man with the lightest eyes I'd ever seen and enough oil in his hair and on his skin to keep a McDonald's running for a week. He basically hung off the arm of this poor old man, and whispered into his ear as he glanced at us furtively. Mr. Creepy moved with the fluidity of a snake now as he crossed the floor and approached us.

"Father, I bring with me Lady Rhodri and Lord Glorfindel of Imladris," Théodred said loudly, looking past the sebaceous reptile that stood between us now.

Théoden barely stirred. His eyes had been fixed on one of the windows, and stayed where they were as his head jerked a fraction. It was as though he had tried to divert his attention to us but simply hadn't the energy to carry the task through. I chewed my lip. This was looking quite grim already.

"Father?" Théodred said a little louder, going right up to the throne now and putting a hand on Théoden's.

Grease Lightning lived up to the name I'd just given him and zipped back over to Théoden, sticking his nose back in his ear. His simpering and whispering made for a rather revolting spectacle, all told, and I would rather have had to watch an hour-long recording of Curumo trying to butter Galadriel up than witness another second of this.

I realised after a moment that this guy must have been the Gríma character that Théodred had mentioned back in Imladris. Knowing that he was the personal assistant made my stomach churn furiously, and I barely managed to suppress my displeasure at the whole thing. This was just sickening.

The combined action of Théodred taking his hand and Gríma jamming his face into his personal bubble seemed to rouse Théoden a little. At last, he made eye contact with us and jerkily inclined his head at us as Glorfindel and I both bowed to him.

"Thank you very much for having us, Your Majesty," I said politely. "It is a pleasure to be in Edoras at this time of the year."

Gríma hadn't moved away from Théoden's face the entire time, and uttered something quietly before moving back to let Théoden speak.

"Yes," he said in a rather creaky monotone before looking up at his son in mild confusion.

"Father, since our physicians have not been able to help you, I bring Lady Rhodri to see if she knows of anything that might assist."

"Mmm," he hummed blankly, staring off again at the window.

Gríma looked needled at the idea of someone helping Théoden regain his mental faculties, and it only made my instinctive dislike of him grow.

I nodded at Glorfindel, who took his cue to depart and sit in the sun awhile, and approached Théoden's throne.

"Your Majesty, may I ask you some questions about your health these days?" I asked slowly in a friendly, clear voice.

Théoden watched me in muted fascination for a few moments before nodding. I looked around at the others and asked them to move out of earshot (a few metres away, at best) before I started my assessment. Everyone obliged and moved down the hall a few paces. Everyone, that is, except Gríma.

"Feel free to stay in the room," I said to him, "but I need a little space between us so I can carry out the assessment."

"I never leave King Théoden's side," he replied, thoroughly offended before he turned to Théoden and crooned, "Is that not so, my liege?" at him. Théoden nodded expressionlessly, eyes still glued on the window.

I turned around and looked at Théodred in confusion, and he gave me a resigned nod.

"Righto," I murmured to myself. "Let's get started, then."


	63. Space invaders

** Kendra:** Yeah, I feel that way about a lot of the very powerful characters, and it extends all the way past the Valar up to Ilúvatar. Why did he make it so hard for himself by making Melkor? He didn't need to do that. He could have just made a utopia, or crushed Melkor with one thumb and gone about his business. As you'll see in the other characters, though, their powers are also restricted in some way or another. For the Istari, it was limited by rule of the Valar. Tom Bombadil was limited because he gave absolutely no shits about anything outside of the forest. Elrond could've pushed Isildur into Mount Doom and saved us all a huge headache, but he was held back by diplomatic constraints. The thing is that what power they _do_ exercise, however limited, makes a difference in some way. Same with Rhodri's. She physically restrained Sauron long enough that he wasn't able to kill off everyone in Dol Guldur, but not long enough to crush him. But it still meant Elrond and co. lived. The other point I'd like to make is the huge difference a small intervention can make. Much of what Rhodri does is incredibly subtle, but it has a ripple effect that changes proceedings immensely. Pretty much the same as so many things we do in our lives that make indescribably huge differences without us even noticing most of them.

** Celine:** I guess I answer part of this in the response to Kendra above, but I get what you mean. It's a constant source of frustration for Rhodri that people don't just take her advice, and amusingly enough, it's an issue for many others in the Tolkienverse, too. Elrond has great ideas, but who listens to Elrond? Nobody. Gandalf? Ha. I maintain that all of this was avoidable, but people just don't speak up there, and then everything goes to pot. Beyond that, though, Denethor was a very strong and wise character. Unfortunately, Rhodri gets there too late and doesn't get to see him in his splendour days, but Denethor had a very, very strong hatred of Sauron that could not be swayed by whatever he saw in the Palantír. All that happened was that he became desperate and sad, but even when, he never for a second wavered in his desire to see Sauron crushed. That's primarily why nobody intervened. Denethor really was a spectacular character in many regards- at least if you can look past his appalling failures as a parent.

**earthdragon:** lol Sarumanitis. Inflammation of the Saruman. That's hilarious, I'll need to keep that one in my lexicon when I'm looking for an excuse to call off work for the day. :D

§

Unlike most of the assessments I carry out, the initial round of testing for dementia (more properly known as neurocognitive disorder) is a rather hands-on matter. Instead of asking if someone has experienced this or that, I have to make them display their abilities in real time so that I can see for myself what they're capable or not of doing.

The primary reason for this is because neurocognitive disorders go far beyond the stereotypical forgetfulness that it's known for. Neurocognitive disorder is an umbrella term for a group of progressive brain disorders of various causes that affect almost every part of the cerebral cortex (the top layer of the brain) and the hippocampus. Memory loss is just one part of the story. Regions of the brain responsible for judgement, comprehension, movement, planning, speaking, parts of the personality, and some things that indicate intelligence can all be affected as the brain slowly starts to degrade. Exactly what was affected and to what extent remained to be seen, as everyone with a neurocognitive disorder is affected differently. That was the first thing I had to establish with Théoden.

"My questions, Your Majesty, will take the form of a small test," I continued, beginning part one of the test: memory. "First, I would like you to imagine that we are organising a trade deal with Gondor. I am going to give you a list of items Rohan will export to Gondor, and I want you to remember the items and tell me what they are in a few minutes when I ask again. The items are: tea, oil, eggs, and soap. Could you please repeat the list back to me now?"

Théoden regarded me for a moment in slight bewilderment but started to repeat the items back to me anyway.

"Tea… eggs… oi-" and then he stopped for a moment as Gríma, who had been glowering at me suspiciously this entire time, whispered something into Théoden's ear.

I looked at Gríma, trying my utmost to suppress a frown. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask that you don't give His Majesty any assistance during my examination, otherwise I will not be able to get a reliable indication of his health status, " I said in a contrived tone of politeness.

Gríma turned to me, watching me in a sort of outraged disbelief. I did not get the impression he was accustomed to being told to back off, especially not by a woman. I, however, did not give a single fig what he thought of it, and was more than willing to do it again if he got in the way of my assessment.

"We'll come back to that question later," I said quickly, deciding to make a new list in my head to introduce further on in the test. I decided to move onto testing Théoden's capacity to make judgements. "Your Majesty, I would like you to tell me what you would do if you were standing at the bank of a river that had no bridge, what you would do to safely get across to the other side."

Théoden hummed softly to himself as he turned my question over in his head. "Check… the water current first…" he started, then trailed off as he became absorbed with the view of the window again.

I nodded, noting his answer down. "Right, and what then?" I prompted.

Gríma, cementing his reputation as an eternally vexing oil repository, started to whisper at him again, gesturing at me.

"Sir, please do not speak to His Majesty while I am making my assessment. It is distracting and will skew the results," I said firmly, stopping him before he got more than a couple of words out. I glanced back at Théodred, who for once looked quite powerless as he shrugged a little at me.

Gríma was even more displeased with my tone than last time, and fixed me with a poisonous glare. Ignoring him, I prompted Théoden again.

"So you have checked the water current. What would you do after that? Théoden?" I waved my hand a little to catch his attention.

"I… enter the water slowly…" he rumbled, flicking his cloudy eyes at me. "Check the depth…"

I nodded. Full marks for judgement. This was a good start, and rather surprising given how his overall condition appeared to be. Pleasant surprises, however, were more than welcome at this time.

I trialled him again on another list (water, chicken, wheat, and dye), which he repeated back to me slowly but accurately three times. His short-term memory, at least, seemed all right. So far, so good.

To test his language abilities, I asked Théoden to give me the names of as many animals as he could within one minute (lacking a watch, I requested that Théodred count to sixty and shout at me when the time was up).

By the time Théoden had reached his fifth animal, he looked like he was going to reach the eight-animal expected minimum fairly well. Or at least he did until Gríma, seemingly unable to resist interfering, leaned in and started hissing something into Théoden's ear, throwing him off track again as he fell into silence.

I sighed impatiently, turned around to Théodred and signalled that he should pause in counting. Facing Gríma again, I was now quite irritated as I spoke to him.

"Mr. Gríma, I wonder how you expect me to make a reasonable assessment of King Théoden's health when you are consistently interrupting him," I said coldly, lips pursed now as I waited for whatever feeble excuse I expected he'd toss at me.

To my surprise, he did not offer anything of the sort. In fact, his face flushed a little. I didn't care and continued.

"If you cannot stop stepping in," I continued, "I will have to ask you to stand with the others for the rest of the testing period." I wondered what on earth Théoden, an apparently great king, saw in this repulsive little squit. He was of absolutely no help. In fact, if anything, he was a hindrance.

Gríma leered at me in a manner that made my skin crawl, and after issuing a slippery apology, I spent the next few minutes testing Théoden's coordination, spatial ability, and how well he was able to conceptualise objects in his head by having him do a series of movement exercises and drawings. He passed them all quite well, though he took longer than should be expected as he spent half the time distracted by Gríma, who watched him closely all the while.

I was puzzled by it all. There was both something wrong and nothing wrong at all. None of the problem seemed to come from Théoden himself, but rather appeared to be coming from Gríma. I couldn't place it as any sort of performance anxiety, because assuming Théoden didn't have any damage to his brain (and he seemed not to), these tasks should have been child's play for him.

Wondering if mind control was a thing in this particular world, I made up another exercise on the spot that I hoped would buy me enough time to take a quick glance into Gríma's head while Théoden worked on it.

"Right, well, I have one more test for today, which will be a short writing examination," I said as I started penning a quote that came to me at random. I passed Théoden the quote, a blank piece of paper, and a pen, and said, "I would like you to copy out what I have written on the piece of paper I have given you, if you please."

Théoden took the pen with a shaky hand and started to read through what I'd written, Gríma scrutinising over his shoulder like he was being paid obscene sums to do so. Perfect.

While keeping my eyes on the paper, I shot into Gríma's head, which was a thoroughly unpleasant place to be. I didn't think it was possible to smell an atmosphere, but there was an unmistakable miasma in here that reeked of spinelessness and bad intentions. Biting back a gag, I looked around. The place looked like it was caked in mould, and there was very little in the way of thoughts passing around. At least Curumo's head had some traffic. This guy basically had a few memories, some creepy vignette of a young blonde woman smiling sweetly, and—ah. The train of thought I'd been looking for. Gingerly seizing it, a very familiar voice filled my head.

"_Do not trouble yourself with some foreign physician, Gríma,"_ it said, the tone cold and calculating. "_We have Théoden almost entirely subdued now. There is no tonic or rousing discussion that will awaken him before we have Rohan at our disposal."_

"_But my Lord Saruman—"_ came Gríma's whine.

"_Enough, Gríma,"_ it replied finally. "_You have asked me what to do, and you have your response. There is nothing more to be said. Do not pester me again today."_

I slipped out of Gríma's head before I could gasp and give myself away, shaking my head a little as I landed back in my own mind with a hard plonk. I never could seem to get that bit right.

Gríma's bleached eyes fixed on mine, and his brow furrowed. I heaved a sigh.

"Sorry about that," I said, shaking my head again. "I'm finding it extremely hot in here." I turned back to Théoden. "Ah, you're all done. Excellent." I took the pieces of paper and my pen back. "Well, that concludes all the assessments I'll make for today. I'll take these to my quarters and analyse the results. and I should have some preliminary answers by tomorrow. I may need to do further testing depending on what I find out."

This was a complete and utter lie. There was no way you could make a reasonable diagnosis of any specific neurocognitive disorder with the short test that I'd given. Further testing would normally have to occur so as to establish what was causing the decline in brain function. Was it the human version of mad cow disease or another prion illness? Was it Alzheimer's dementia? Huntington's disease, perhaps? But I didn't need to know any of that. I needed to get to Saruman and give him that boot up the arse I'd been longing to administer.

Collecting my possessions, I bowed low and asked Théodred to be so kind as to escort weak, heatstroke-riddled little me to my quarters so that I could rest my dainty lady self. Ever the gentleman, Théodred offered me his arm and held my backpack in one hand as he helped me outside. Glorfindel, who had been sunning himself like a lizard on the stairs up to the hall, looked over now and smiled.

"Oh, hello!" he greeted us both happily. "Finished already? I—" he paused as he caught sight of me looking a little wilted as I held onto Théodred's arm, and saw that Théodred was holding my backpack, something I had never asked another person to do. "Goodness, is everything all right?"

"Yes, the heat just seemed a little too much in there, and I find I'm quite weak," I replied, feigning slight exhaustion. "Théodred has kindly offered to direct us to our accommodation so that I can rest a little."

"Oh, my!" he said worriedly, zipping over to my side and taking my other arm in his. "We had better walk in the shade, if possible."

Our lodgings were in a detached house that sat on the very edge of the hill, commanding a most inviting view over the valley below. Had the place not given off the same mould-threatened vibe as all the other buildings here did, it would have been a real treat of a place. Still, though, it was certainly enough for what we needed.

As we entered the house, I went in last, looking around to make sure we weren't being followed. Seeing that the coast was clear, I closed the door behind us, Théodred looking at me in confusion now. He'd already been assured by Elrond that I wasn't a murderer or anything like that, but now that I shut the door and straightened up, looking well as ever, I think he was starting to brace himself to meet Ilúvatar in the next few minutes.

"Cover your ears for a short moment, would you, darling?" I asked Glorfindel. "I'll wave when you can listen again."

Glorfindel smiled and stopped his ears with his fingers, humming quietly to himself.

"Right," I said, turning to the increasingly-alarmed heir. "Théodred, from what I've seen so far, I don't have any reason to suppose your father is reaching his dotage. I think his debilitation has an outside source."

I waved at Glorfindel, who stopped humming and tuned in.

"Something's going on with that Gríma fellow," I said, my voice dropping to a murmur. "I'm inclined to believe that he is in alliance with the wizard Saruman, as you know him. If I can make a guess, Saruman is using Gríma to subdue your father."

Théodred looked horrified. "That wicked snake," he gasped. "I always knew there was something evil about him, but I was never able to say precisely what. Well, what can we do?" he paced around furiously now, and then suddenly stopped. "Shall we launch an attack on Isengard? I can summon—"

"Oh, good god, no," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I don't even want to think about what that nasty old creep has at his disposal right now. Let Glorfindel and me go to Isengard first and confront Saruman, and we will return if we feel there is a need for a larger-scaled attack, yes?"

Théodred looked at us blankly. "Just the two of you? One Elf and a- erm…" he paused, not seeming to know what I was.

"If you knew how much cake we can consume in one sitting, you wouldn't doubt us on this, I promise you," I said with a wink. This did not soothe Théodred in the slightest, so I tried to be more businesslike.

"Saruman was, until recently, a contemporary of ours. We hold quite some sway over him still, so I would rather spare your armies for what is bound to come in the all-too-close future."

This hit the spot, and Théodred accepted this with a nod.

"Very well. I will refrain from pursuing his forces."

"Good man," I said with a smile. "Now, keep it to yourself, but Glorfindel and I will set out in the middle of the night tonight. Please make your guards aware that we will be leaving and not to impede our passage. If anyone asks, we were urgently called back by Lord Elrond and will be sending the results of Théoden's testing by written correspondence along with a comprehensive treatment plan that can be carried out by your physicians here."

Another nod from Théodred, and with that, the waiting game began.

Glorfindel seized the opportunity to get a meeting in, to get at least some of the work done that Elrond had assigned him, leaving me alone in the house. Having to keep up the appearance of being bothered by the heat meant that I had to stay inside until the sun had let up a bit, which led to me taking my first nap in millennia to pass the time.

When the mercury started to sink, I ventured out to find something to eat, wondering quietly to myself if Rohan, being a close neighbour and trade partner to Gondor, might also have baked beans.

I stood out like a fly on a wedding cake in this place. Everybody had either blonde, grey, or white hair- except that Gríma guy, oddly enough. I touched my hair absent-mindedly and hoped that my brown hair wouldn't lead to me being mistaken for his sister or something.

Thankfully, that seemed not to be the case. People here were extremely friendly and laid back, and didn't hesitate to wave and say hello. I hadn't seen this kind of cheerful unreservedness since I was in Brazil.

Distracted by how lovely a place this was, I completely forgot to go to the dining hall and instead sat on a bench in the shade. One particular person standing a short way away seemed to catch my eye for reasons I couldn't quite put my finger on. She appeared to have been lost in her thoughts as she stared off into the distance before she turned around and saw me glance up at her. I gave her a polite smile and went to look elsewhere when she smiled back at me warmly, and that was when it hit me: she was the woman I'd seen in Gríma's head. My stomach turned, and before I knew it, I had waved at her.

The young lady, bless her, waved back at me. Whether it was sympathy or simply good-naturedness that drove it, I had no idea, but she came over and sat down beside me on the bench.

"Hello there," she greeted me.

"Hello," I said back with a smile. "Gorgeous day today, isn't it?"

"I was just thinking the same thing myself," she replied, nodding at me. "I am Éowyn, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you," I touched my hand to my heart. "I'm Rhodri. I just arrived here today from Imladris. You from around these parts, yourself?"

Éowyn laughed. "I am indeed. In fact, I have a rather uniquely close connection to Rohan. King Théoden is my adoptive father, you see. I saw you and your companion entering the Golden Hall earlier today with my cousin."

We chatted for a while about what she thought about the current state of affairs in Rohan and, to my relief, Éowyn made a comment to me quietly about Gríma. I had been half panicking, wondering whether I should bring him up to her in case she was his (most unfortunate) girlfriend or something like that. That concern, however, was laid to rest immediately when she made a quiet sound of disgust and said to me, "To be honest with you, Rhodri, I think much of the problems we face here in Rohan are due in some measure to my uncle's assistant, Gríma. It's almost as though his presence poisons my uncle. I hate it." Angered, she bunched her hands up in fists and then relaxed them before turning and looking at me in horror.

"Oh dear, I am so very sorry, Rhodri," she said quickly, her eyes wide. "I am not at all in the habit of divulging such things to strangers. Please excuse my indiscretion."

"Please don't apologise," I said as I held up a hand calmly. "I'm actually quite relieved you did, because I had a… well, you could call it a premonition about yourself and him."

"A prem- are you gifted with foresight?" she asked in surprise, watching me with fascination.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," I said. Not entirely true, but I wasn't about to go telling a stranger that I could invade people's heads at will, however nice they were.

"What did you see?" Éowyn breathed.

"Very little, as the vision was interrupted, but I knew that you are in his thoughts. I have a sinking feeling he might try to persuade you to join him in whatever it is you think he's doing to your uncle, so if you're not already doing it, I'd keep a goodly distance from that… ah, that person."

She smiled. "You need not hold back. We all call him 'Wormtongue' here. But yes, I shall be from here on in, you can be sure of it," Éowyn said with a fervent nod. "Thank you for letting me know."

"Not a problem. Thank you for sitting with me and keeping me company even though you had no idea who I was," I returned.

"My pleasure," she smiled at me with a genuineness that reflexively turned up the sides of my own mouth in sympathy. "Now, tell me, Rhodri, have you eaten yet? Normally around this time, lunch is served." Éowyn pointed at a large building behind her, which had quite a few people filing into it at that moment.

"As a matter of fact, I haven't had anything yet," I said, noticing that a pleasant smell of baked bread and roasted vegetables suddenly filled my nose.

"Goodness, you had better come with me then, before you fall over from exhaustion," she said as she got to her feet.

Well, I certainly wasn't about to point out I could go without food for eternity. Especially not when there was a chance there could be baked beans on the menu.

**Psych Notes**

**Major neurocognitive disorder **

A: Someone who knows the person, a clinician who has previously assessed the person, or the person themselves provides evidence that there has been significant loss of cognitive ability in one or more of the following aspects:  
\- Complex attention (the ability to keep information in your head and manipulate it, e.g. mental maths)

-Executive function (personality, planning, knowing to resist impulses)  
-Learning and memory (short and long-term memory, acquiring new information, deducing things from information you have)

\- Language (vocabulary, sentence structure, understanding spoken language, reading, writing, ability to speak other acquired languages where applicable- the person may forget a language they've spoken all their life and regress back to their mother tongue even if they haven't spoken it in decades)

\- Perceptual-motor (coordination, spatial awareness, fluidity and control of movement, using senses like sight, hearing to gather information)  
\- Social cognition (appropriate social behaviours and feelings, awareness of relationships with others, recognising people and treating them appropriately considering how well or not they know the person

B: The cognitive issues affect the person's ability to live independently, e.g. not being able to keep track of their medication, needing assistance with activities like paying a bill or following up on a faulty product etc.

C: The cognitive issues are not exclusively happening when the person is delirious (experiencing a sudden temporary state of confusion that can affect personality, consciousness, movement, and understanding; usually lasts hours to a few days).

D: These cognitive issues are not due to another mental disorder, e.g. schizophrenia, major depressive disorder

**Differential diagnosis**

To be honest, Rhodri barely got into the differentials with Théoden. She would have moved onto that had she not suddenly snuck into Gríma's head and caught him smooching up to Curumo!

The process of diagnosing neurocognitive disorder is a very complex and involved one when it's done correctly. Unfortunately, in many places, the resources aren't there to carry out the full raft of tests that are suggested when someone shows up with those symptoms. Depression can slow people right down and leave them "fuzzy" in the head, which is a big one to rule out, and schizophrenia triggers a lot of personality and functional changes that should be looked into. Schizophrenia can be ruled out through the presence of hallucinations, and depression brings with it intense sadness and/or loss of interest in activities. A person with neurocognitive issues might start to forget how to do what they liked, or simply get 'information overload' because they no longer possess the processing power to perform the task.  
If possible, blood tests are a good idea to rule out nutritional deficits, as some of them, especially in the B-vitamin group, can impressively mimic a lot of mental issues (among them neurocognitive disorder, but also things like depression, anxiety, and in rarer cases, psychotic mental illnesses). Bloods could also be done to check for various toxicities, like lead and mercury poisoning if you live in a place where the safety of drinking or farming water is questionable. I could go on for quite some time here, but you get the idea.


	64. Always the flight, never the fight

Glorfindel and I slunk out at midnight, both excited for the journey and, for my part, terribly smug. As it turned out, baked beans were indeed a thing in Rohan, and were just as delicious and perfect as Gondor's had been. It came as no surprise to anyone that I took myself straight to the kitchens after eating and adoringly prostrated myself at the feet of the chefs there who, once the initial confusion had passed, happily sent me on my way with a copy of the recipe. We did a swapsies, in fact, and now they had instructions on how to make ice cream. Quite a fair trade, in my opinion.

It did seem a little awkward to depart without actually telling Théoden first, but I didn't believe he would care too much either way, and when he was in this state, sleep seemed like a blessing that would have been churlish to interrupt. Théodred knew, at least, and I was sure he'd make some terrific excuse for us. He seemed like the sort of chap who'd watch our backs like that.

We got away from there as quickly as we could, riding back up along the North-South Road. Most conveniently, Isengard was practically on the way back up to Imladris. The joy of the plan coming together in such a seamless manner, as well as the prospect of sinking the boot squarely into Curumo's ancient arse had Glorfindel and me in the most chipper mood since Elrond declared that ice cream would be served once a week. The cherry on top was that we got Glorfindel's favourite kind of weather the entire time: sunny, hot, and no clouds. He enjoyed a little good-natured squabbling as he pointed out the lack of clouds (hot, sunny, and a few clouds was my personal favourite) and I assured him that the clouds would show up in their own time.

The only real dampener was the blight on the landscape that Isengard made when you looked toward it. It didn't have that unpleasant, chilly atmosphere of utter degradation and hopelessness we got at Dol Guldur. This was something else. It was more along the lines of excessive industry and grinding poverty with a backdrop of machinery and the huge tower of Orthanc, which we could see even from fifty, sixty kilometres away.

The constant building meant that the landscape ahead of us looked sparse, like someone had ripped up the rug and taken all the furniture out of the place. There was scarcely a trace of plant life to be seen. Even where we were, the trees had started to become something of a rarity.

A sudden blip in the sky passing over Orthanc suddenly filled me with hope.

"Those clouds are here at last, thank-" I stopped mid-sentence when my gaze was heavenwards and saw that there was not a hint of a cloud. It almost looked like a bird… but it was the size of a small house.

"It's one of Manwe's eagles!" Glorfindel exclaimed.

"He's got big birds, has he?" I murmured in shock. "I'd hate to be the one who had to clean their cages." I squinted and looked a little closer. "Do you know, I think the bird has something riding on its back…"

Glorfindel craned his neck and strained his eyes. "Mmm, I think you're right. Do you think it could be Curumo?"

"No, the clothes are too dark," I muttered. We didn't have long to wait until we could make the passenger out a little better; the bird was travelling in our direction at one hell of a clip.

"I… I think it's Olórin…" Glorfindel said.

"Goodness me, so it is!" I squeaked. "Quick, get off your horse and we'll get his attention."

Looking at me strangely, Glorfindel dismounted. I hopped off my own and walked up to Glorfindel.

"Here's what we'll do," I proposed. "I'll throw you up in the air and catch you, and Olórin will see the movement and come down to see us. What do you think?"

Glorfindel's eyes shimmered like diamonds. "Oh, I've always hoped you'd offer to do this!" he sang ecstatically and stood straight with his arms out. "Whenever you're ready, beloved!"

"Have a pleasant flight," I said with a wink and with a flick of my arms, Glorfindel sailed some 20 metres into the air, screaming excitedly the entire way and waving his arms like he was a windmill on speed. As he came back down and fell into my outstretched arms, I let myself drop near the ground as a shock absorber and threw him onto his feet a metre away from me.

"All safe and comfortable?" I asked, dusting my hands off.

"Oh, yes," he said breathlessly, his hair now quite windswept. "Like landing on a mattress." Glorfindel grinned at me with huge, sparkly eyes. "Maybe he didn't see us and we should do it again!"

I glanced up and pointed at the eagle, who had begun a fast descent now. "I feel like he might have."

Glorfindel let out a tiny, disappointed noise that drove me to say, "Tell you what, I'll toss you in the air as much as you like later on, eh?" before I could stop myself.

"Splendid," he purred as he planted a quick kiss on my cheek before we waited for Olórin's jet to land.

Up close, the eagle looked even huger than I thought, and as its wings braked, a huge cloud of dust flew out that caked us from head to toe for a moment. Olórin slid off the back of this massive bird and ran over to us, looking surprisingly rattled.

"God, you're fast for a pensioner," I muttered to him as he stopped dead in front of us.

"Rhodri, Glorfindel," he said, looking quite afraid, "what a relief to run into the two of you."

"What's the matter, Olórin?" Glorfindel asked urgently.

"Much is the matter," he replied in hasty gravity. "I was in Mirkwood and heard from Gollum that he had been in Barad-Dur, and Sauron extracted the words 'Shire' and 'Baggins' from him under torture."

Glorfindel and I caught our breath in shock. "He knows where the Ring is?" I whispered.

"Indeed. I travelled quickly to the Shire and threw the Ring in the fireplace at Frodo's house, where it did not melt," he said. "It is without a doubt the ring that Sauron seeks. I tasked Frodo with leaving the Shire under an alias to make for Imladris. He should be setting out soon, and will be meeting with Aragorn in Bree who will escort him the rest of the way."

We nodded, taking in as much information as possible to pass on to Elrond when we would see him next.

"And what of you, then?" I asked.

"Curumo has completely turned," Olórin said, still very shaken. "He suggested that the two of us become masters of the Ring together and use it to overpower Sauron. I refused, of course, and he imprisoned me atop Orthanc. Gwaihir," he gestured at the oversized eagle, "spotted me there and brought me down here."

Glorfindel and I stood there, shaking our heads in disbelief with our mouths wide open. This was incredible.

"What business did you two have in Isengard, then?" Olórin looked at us curiously.

I quickly gave Olórin a run-down of our visit to Théoden and the fiasco with Wormtongue acting as a proxy for Curumo's wicked ways.

"We'd planned to go to Isengard to give Curumo a good old-fashioned belting, really, and tell him and his toxic lickspittle to keep away from Rohan," I finished.

Olórin shook his head. "There's no time for that now," he replied. "You must go straight back to Imladris and tell Elrond everything I just told you."  
"But what about-" Glorfindel started to say, but Olórin cut across him.

"Leave Théoden to me," he said calmly. "Keep away from Isengard. I will come back to Imladris as soon as may be, but Elrond must call a council for this now, while there is still time."

We nodded, said a quick goodbye, and parted ways.

"Talk about anticlimactic, huh," I shouted to Glorfindel as we thundered back along the North-South Road.

"Not that we're short of an adventure," he yelled back.

"No, but I had rather been looking forward to taking Curumo's staff and shoving it right up his-"

The last word was obscured as Glorfindel started to roar with laughter.

We decided after a while that the horses were too slow for the urgency of our task and so, instructing them to follow us home, Glorfindel got on my back and I ran instead. He wasn't such a huge weight on my back, especially when he clung on correctly, and I was able to keep the pace of a near-gallop for hours on end in the day. With the weight off the horses, they were able to keep quite close behind us with no real effort. Spare a horse, ride a Rhodri.

It turned out to be the right choice, because we shaved about two weeks off our travel time. We did look a hell of a sight, though, streaking through the autumnal countryside in a hyperspeed piggyback being chased down by a couple of horses. As we reached the familiar sight of the valley in the middle of the day, I set Glorfindel down and we bolted all the way up to Elrond's without stopping.

"ELROND!" I shouted as I hammered on his study door. "ELROND, OPEN UP!"

The door flew open to reveal a shocked Erestor. "Rhodri, Glorfindel, my goodness! What's all the shouting-" he began to say, but Glorfindel cut him off.

"You too, Erestor. Quickly, come on," he took him gently by the shoulders and steered him inside as I ran in and saw an absolutely astonished Elrond looking at us.

"H-how did you get back so quickly, you two?" he began to say, but I shook my head.

"Not now, Elrond," I replied as Glorfindel and I launched into everything that had happened. Elrond and Erestor listened in rapt, silent horror, and stayed that way some minutes after we had finished.

"We need to call for a council once Frodo Baggins arrives," Glorfindel said urgently. "Whomever we can get on such short notice will have to do."

Elrond nodded numbly, turning back to his paperwork a moment before swinging into action. He took out a fresh sheet of paper, as did Erestor, and then suddenly paused.

"Get something to eat and drink, you two," he said with a small smile. "You must be exhausted."

"Hah, because now is the time we're going to put our feet up and relax," I said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Erestor, be a dear and give us a couple of sheets of your paper, would you?" I asked politely.

Erestor quickly obliged, and I gave him a smile. "It's so good to see the two of you again," I said quietly, a contented sigh escaping me. Glorfindel beamed and nodded in agreement, taking a sheet of paper and a pen from my bag and starting to make notes about topics to be brought up at the proposed council.

Much in all as I longed for the quieter days of the Third Age, I was happy to at least be at home again with Elrond and Erestor. Glorfindel seemed more pleased with this arrangement as well, and the four of us essentially spent the rest of the week in Elrond's study, frantically trying to tie up any loose ends and cover every imaginable situation before things really started to take a nosedive. We took our meals there and on numerous occasions, we even fell asleep in there.

Now that we had moved into the stage of 'extraordinary circumstances,' Elrond's desire to keep us together all the time seemed not only normal, it was also shared by the rest of us. We had no interest in going to our own rooms except to retrieve things- or, in my case, if a client stopped by, though everyone knew they would have to come to Elrond's office if they had any hope of finding me. I knew it wasn't healthy. However, I also knew that the situation we had found ourselves in wasn't healthy, either. What part of a looming war is wholesome or nourishing? None of it.

That week passed by in a blur, the only thing bringing it back into focus being the delivery of a message that had Elrond almost beside himself.

"Elrond, what is it?" Erestor asked as we watched Elrond read and re-read the letter.

"The Nazgûl," he uttered under his breath.

"Nazgûl? What about them?" I raised an eyebrow curiously.

"They are pursuing Frodo."

"Well, of course they are," said Glorfindel as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "They're after that Ri- oh dear. They are actively pursuing him."

"Indeed," Elrond murmured uneasily.

I turned to Glorfindel and gave him a wicked grin, the excitement building up in me already. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Our time to shine, I think, beloved," he murmured back affectionately as he set his papers aside and stood up.

"You two will be careful, won't you?" Elrond shouted after us as we made for the door.

"NOPE!" I yelled back, closing the door behind me as I cackled wildly.

We took five minutes to pack a handful of supplies, grab our swords, and then made for the stables. I had suggested we just piggyback like before, but Glorfindel pointed out that I would likely find it hard to balance with a stack of people on my back when we collected the others, and that horses were far more suited to that sort of thing. It was a fair point, so we met in the middle: ridiculous piggyback there, put Frodo and co. on the horses for the journey back. Good deal, really.

For the next six days, we blazed along the East Road, keeping an eye out for any sign of Aragorn, since he would be the one to recognise us.

Initially, we had nothing but quiet, especially at night, but we managed to get a little excitement going once or twice when we caught sight of a few Nazgûl at the Bridge. As soon as they caught sight of us, however, they cleared off in short order.

"Was it something I said?" Glorfindel asked as we watched these riders thunder off into the night. One evening, when we were a day or two's journey from Weathertop, we saw a small orange glow in the not-too-far distance.

"Do you think it could be them?" Glorfindel said to me.

I shrugged. "Could well be. Might as well say hello, don't you think?"

He nodded, and we climbed onto our horses and rode them so that we wouldn't lose them if they became spooked.

Half an hour later, we were right near the campfire, and my heart leapt as I saw my lovely nephew standing and beaming at us.

"Ai na vedui, Dúnadan!" Glorfindel called out happily as we dismounted and strolled over to him. Aragorn started walking toward us and when we met, he pulled us both into an embrace.

"Hello, darling," I said affectionately as I hugged him back. He had some grey flecks in his beard and hair now, and looked absolutely exhausted. "How are you, hmm?"

"I am well enough," he answered with his characteristic solemnity. "Frodo, however, is not at all." Aragorn gestured at the four Hobbits clustered around the fire, one of which was white as a sheet and had his shirt slightly open to reveal a greyish stab wound on his chest.

"Is- is that a-" I started to say as I walked over and looked at the wound.

"It is," Aragorn replied, coming over with Glorfindel now. "We were ambushed on Weathertop by some of the Nazgûl."

Glorfindel looked deeply troubled by Frodo's wound. "This looks very bad indeed. I'm relieved we found you when we did."

Aragorn produced the hilt of the blade that had been used to administer the stab and handed it to the two of us. Glorfindel shuddered as he touched the sword.

"There are inscriptions on this… evil ones," he said quietly, an uncharacteristic tinge of disgust in his voice. "Keep it with you to give to your father when we get back to Imladris."

I looked at the hilt and frowned. "Don't handle that thing directly if you can help it," I added. "Whatever's embedded in that thing looks… contagious."

Aragorn nodded at the two of us and put it away again carefully. "Is there anything either of you can do for the wound right now?"

Glorfindel and I looked at each other worriedly. This wasn't our specialty at all, but it was worth a shot. We both put a hand on Frodo's chest, and a burning chill passed up my arm. I knew better than to move it, though, because Frodo, who had been gasping quietly all the while, had finally relaxed a little. The only thing that had really done was transfer some of the discomfort to us, or at best, slowed the spread of the wound

"There is little else we can do for this, I'm afraid. The only person who can fix it is your father," Glorfindel said regretfully.

"But we can definitely fast track your journey east a little!" I added brightly, whistling for our horses, who clip-clipped over happily, the bells on their bridles jingling gently as they moved.

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "We should keep moving now that we know we are being pursued. Frodo can ride on Asfaloth, and if our seekers should appear, we can send him on to Imladris and follow behind."

The Hobbit beside Frodo, a sandy-haired chap who had been regarding us with suspicion the entire time, found this unsatisfactory in the extreme.

"Mr. Frodo can't be riding at night! He's wounded! He needs his rest," he said to us in a stern voice, defensively standing in front of Frodo.

Frodo leaned a little to the side to look at us, gasping with pain as he did, and said, "I will not abandon my friends to the Riders if they come. I shall stand and fight with the rest of them!"

Glorfindel and I smiled. His loyalty, misguided as it was, warmed our cockles.

"I'm afraid, matey, that you're not really up to standing or fighting in your current condition," I said to him mildly.

"And you seem to be forgetting," Glorfindel reminded him good-humouredly, "that you and your friends are only in danger because of that ring you're carrying. I doubt they would have much to fear if you took off."

Frodo seemed disgruntled with our words, but accepted them with a stiff nod as he allowed himself to be placed on the back of Glorfindel's horse.

"Don't be afraid, Frodo," Glorfindel reassured him kindly as he tightened the stirrups so Frodo's feet could reach them. "Asfaloth's pace is sure and steady, and he can outpace all of the Riders. He won't let you fall off his back."

The next few days saw us walk without pause, Frodo worsening all the while. He had become quite pale and clammy, freezing to the touch, and his wound was steel grey. I cycled between carrying the Hobbits and Aragorn so they could sleep, and eventually, we looked to be getting quite close to the Ford of Bruinen.

Naturally, that was when things got interesting. I cursed under my breath. Glorfindel had said it would happen around here, and he made a bet of it with me. I had also thought things would pick up here, but he'd already made his projection, so I had to bet something else. Looked like I owed him my ice cream that week.

I glanced out at the landscape stretching in front of us and could see the Ford a short way away. Suddenly, an unexpected noise made Glorfindel and I look up sharply and over at Aragorn.

"Hoofbeats. Do you hear them?" I said to Aragorn.

He strained his ears and nodded after a moment. "Barely."

"They don't sound like our horses," Glorfindel murmured, walking quickly over to his horse, where Frodo halfway sat, draped over Asfaloth's withers.

"Sit up, Frodo, and take the reins," Glorfindel said urgently as he roused him awake. "Hold them tightly. Asfaloth will bear you to Rivendell now."

With one gentle clap to the rump and the magic words from his master, the horse was off like a shot.

The Riders drew closer, but Asfaloth and Frodo were long out of their reach now- provided Frodo didn't try to slow him up, of course. The other three Hobbits sat on my own horse, Rhovaron, who at my instruction flew off the road and into the forest where they would stay out of sight.

That left Aragorn, Glorfindel, and me to try and waylay them. We ran forward in hot pursuit of Frodo, who quickly reached the forest border and now had to make the short final leg in the open plains before reaching the water's edge.

Seeing the clearing ahead of us, we caught two of the Nazgûl bursting out from between the trees and looping around, already ahead of Frodo and waiting to cut him off before he could cross the Bruinen.

"Glorfindel…" Aragorn said nervously as we ducked between the trees to conceal ourselves.

"Wait…" Glorfindel said with a smile.

Sure enough, Frodo seemed to pass straight by them, through them even, Asfaloth blazing on like he had a jetpack strapped to him, and hopped into the water. Aragorn let out a sigh of relief.

"Quick, we need to get to the water, too," I said, gesturing for them to follow me as I darted along through the trees.

The continual rumbling of hoofbeats got louder and more frenzied as four wraiths sped past us along the path, and the other three sounded like they were passing through the forest on the other side of the road.

Just as we reached the clearing, I held out an arm to stop Glorfindel and Aragorn. Frodo had crossed the Ford now, and the Nazgûl were stopped at the river bank, screaming at him and brandishing their swords. Only one of them- the leader, it seemed- slowly started to ride his horse into the water.

"Auntie-" Aragorn started, but I held my finger up to my lips to silence him.

"Do you hear that?" I said.

It was the sound of rushing water. No surprises there; the name of the river _was_ the Loudwater, after all. It wasn't like it was going to be totally noiseless. Now, though, the sound was starting to amplify.

"Your Ada must know we have company," Glorfindel said with a smile as his eyes widened keenly.

The wraiths, fools that they were, had no idea what was coming; the river made a sharp bend out of sight a hundred metres to their left, and that was precisely where Elrond's warm welcome would be coming from. Even so, though, still only one of their lot had been brave enough to start crossing the Ford.

The rushing water had started to drain back a little, a sign that a huge wall of water was about to come roaring around the bend (magic is an incredible thing). Glorfindel and I looked at each other and knew exactly what we wanted to do. It was time to scare and/or strongarm these nasty things into the rapidly oncoming aqua traffic.

"Ready?" Glorfindel said to me with a broad smile.

"Ready." I grinned back, and with that, we blasted out of that forest like our arses were on fire and flew straight at the Nazgûl, weapons at the ready. They turned around, stirred by the sounds of our wild laughs, and started gingerly stepping into the water when they realised we were approaching.

"Hey, come back here!" I shouted at them in a moment of hubris, beckoning them back. "We just want to talk!"

Oddly enough, they were not convinced, but they were halfway across when a huge crashing sound came, and by the time they'd turned their horses around and made to retreat, the water was a second away from hitting them.

Unlike in the Looney Tunes world, when you're moments away from disaster, time does not slow down enough for you to look at the camera in a moment of panicked despondency. Nor does it give the onlookers time to get a good laugh in. The only thing we had time to notice was that Elrond had made the waves look like individual horses, so that they ran in a herd. Bit ironic, really, when you think that they were taking out nine riders, but Elrond always did have that passive-aggressive streak.

The reality was that screams barely escaped the Ringwraiths before the water slammed into them and washed them away. We stood in satisfaction and watched the little dots fade to nothingness as the tide swept them off to who-knows-where.

Our window of opportunity for a victory dance was cut short, however, when we looked across the way and saw Frodo slouched forward, barely holding the reins now.

"I think I'd better carry him up," I murmured to Glorfindel, "otherwise Asfaloth is going to be doing a balancing act the whole way up to Elrond's place. I'll see you up there?"

Glorfindel nodded, and with that, I sprang across the rocks, snapped up Frodo, and sped off to the house, leaving the others following behind.

"Elrond!" I called as I ran down the halls. "Elrond, I've got him!"

Elrond appeared from the hospital wing and quickly waved me in. His face was very grave as he looked over Frodo, whose breathing sounded like quiet, inverted screams. He flicked his eyes up to me in unwilling doubtfulness before snapping into business mode and giving me calm instructions as he started to work on Frodo. Olórin came in shortly after, and we tag-teamed in assisting Elrond and swapping news.

Elrond was still tending to Frodo when the others arrived a couple of hours later, using just about every incantation and remedy I'd heard of, and a whole bunch that I hadn't. The guy was a library on legs, let's be honest here.

"Mr. Gandalf!" the suspicious sandy-haired Hobbit as he stood at the door to the hospital wing, looking at Olórin in surprise. The other two Hobbits cheered as they saw him and ran over to him.

"Is Mr. Frodo gonna be all right?" Mr. Protective Hairyfoot asked as he looked up at Olórin, his pleasant round face contorted in a fearful expression.

"Mmm, I believe so," Olórin replied calmly, looking over at Elrond. "Come, Sam, Merry, Pippin. We will leave Lord Elrond to finish his work and you shall have the news from me."

Glorfindel and Aragorn stepped over now, looking at Frodo anxiously. Elrond glanced up at them as he doused the gaping wound in a bright green unguent.

"You came just in time. A few hours more and he would have been beyond my aid," he said before turning back to the task at hand.

Glorfindel and Aragorn shifted nervously from foot to foot. The idea of Frodo being dragged into the wraith realm was a most uncomfortable one, and we were glad to be at least somewhat out of the woods there.

Another hour passed before Elrond was confident that Frodo could be left to sleep awhile, and after delivering the update to the Hobbits and "Gandalf," we grabbed Erestor and the five of us partook in the first proper Happy Hour in ages.


	65. The art of forced civility

** earthdragon**: 'Sarumanella' made me laugh so damned hard. I've been doing my master's in public health and we covered salmonella a lot in my environmental health unit. You can be sure I won't be calling it by its original name any more.

** Patricia**: nah, not so much. She did tire after a few hours of sprinting, and so she stopped, but she doesn't eat or drink. The Maiar don't need sustenance. The pause was mainly for the horses, because even though they were able to cover tremendous distances at a high speed, they were still prone to tiredness. Keeping in mind that Glorfindel and Rhodri were both quite tall and had athletic builds. I'd picture Glorfindel at around 7 foot, and weighing around 105, 110 kilograms, and Rhodri at about 6 foot 6 and 80-ish kilograms. That's quite a burden for a horse, especially over long distances, so absurd though the piggybacking sounds, it was for the best. :P

§

To everyone's relief, Frodo was up and moving by mid-morning the next day. We caught a glimpse of him in the distance from Elrond's balcony as we stood there, letting the sun shine on our faces a little.

"His strength has returned awfully quickly," Elrond remarked in pleasant surprise.

"The wound will never fully heal, though," Olórin replied sadly. "He will carry that for the rest of his life." His compassion for even a fraction of the Hobbit's suffering was touching.

"Still, to have come this far, and with a Morgul-wound, no less," Elrond murmured, one eyebrow raised in interest. "He has quite some resilience to the Ring's evil."

Olórin looked at Elrond sharply, as if he knew where this was going. "He should never have had to bear that burden, Elrond," he said sternly. "We cannot ask anything more of Frodo."

"Olórin, the enemy is moving," Elrond replied wearily as he, most ironically, went back inside, the rest of us filing in after him. "Sauron's forces are growing and his eye is _fixed _on Imladris. And now Curumo, apparently, has betrayed us also." He gave Olórin a pointed look as he said, "our list of allies grows thin, meldir."

"Curumo's wickedness runs deeper than you can imagine," Olórin said rancorously as he plonked into an armchair and rubbed his bushy eyebrows. "He is breeding a hybrid Orc-Goblin army that can move in sunlight and over long distances at high speed."

Elrond sat down and sighed. "What do you expect us to do, Olórin?" he asked simply. "The Elves do not have the power to hide the Ring from Sauron, and we certainly do not have the numbers to fight off Mordor _and _Isengard!"

Olórin said nothing. He glanced at Erestor, Glorfindel, and me as if to try and guess whose side of the argument we were on, but we remained expressionless, watching on in silence.

Elrond continued, attempting to be a little gentler now as he spoke. "Olórin, the time of the Elves is over. My people are leaving these shores. We will never have the numbers or the people to manage this. Another race will have to take up our role soon."

"Men," Olórin grunted.

"Men?" Elrond appeared vaguely amused at this. "I think not. You've seen what they're like. They are too weak, scattered, leaderless."

"You think they will remain so forever?" Olórin asked, now raising an eyebrow at him. "I know of one who could unite them…"

I bit my lip and glanced at Glorfindel and Erestor, who shared a look with me. Elrond was rather sensitive about the topic of Aragorn fulfilling the conditions he had set for Arwen's hand in marriage, particularly since Aragorn had given every indication of being able to meet them. Sure enough, a microexpression, almost imperceptible, passed over Elrond's face as though he'd just been jolted with a cattle prod.

"We will see," he said tersely, not saying anything more.

Olórin, a little emboldened now, looked to the three of us. "What of you three, then? You have been very quiet through all this." Elrond sat up a little in his seat, observing us with interest.

I didn't like this. They were both acting quite out of character now. Elrond had one of the most exceptional talents for sass and backtalk that I'd seen in anyone, but it never, ever came out in such serious situations. Usually, Elrond was unflappable in a debate. I could see that the topic had gotten him so keyed up that he was having a hard time controlling the urge to take a swipe at Olórin's ideals.

Olórin was less inclined to suppress his temper, but knew exactly where to poke to make it hurt- not in malice, of course. Rather because he wished to stand up for Frodo and show Elrond his displeasure at Elrond's apparent coldness (a coping mechanism of his- intellectualisation taken a step too far). This wasn't going to end well at all in an environment like this. Cornered people lash out. We knew each other too well (and thus knew each other's sore spots), and didn't have the necessity of behaving in front of guests to force restraint when our self-control was lacking.

Glorfindel was the first to speak. "You both seem to be quite correct," he offered nervously. "We will be leaving soon, it's true."

"But it _is_ terribly unfair to ask Frodo to do anything more with the Ring when he has already suffered so much and put his home in jeopardy in the process," added Erestor, which was met with a nod by Glorfindel.

"And what says the Maia of Tulkas, then?" Olórin pushed, watching me beadily now, as did the others. I really ought to have made a habit of just shouting something, anything, at the beginning so that I wouldn't constantly find myself outed as the quieter one and have all eyes on me like this.

"I reserve my judgement until the council tomorrow when we know our options," I said firmly. "Until that happens, I think we should leave the topic of whom the task should fall to. We're too wound up to be sure that our tempers won't make us act out of character and say hurtful things that we don't really mean." I looked particularly closely at Elrond and Olórin as I said that last part, and they looked at their knees for a moment.

"What we _should_ be examining now," I continued as I got up and paced around evenly, "is _what_ our options are, rather than _who _should carry it out. That is of far more pressing concern, I feel."

As per our new usual, we spent all day cooped up in that study engaged in vigorous but much more impersonal debate on things we could feasibly achieve, and occasionally entertaining a fantastical notion or two.

After a while, though, we had hit a mental block. All that tension must have drained our creative juices, and a period of silence fell over us upon acknowledging that Sauron's fortress was impenetrable with our armies. It didn't help that I kept having to remind Elrond and Olórin that we were not discussing who would have to implement our plans. The constant distractions that created made it frustratingly hard for me to formulate any reasonable idea.

I zoned out for a moment as a silly thought came to my mind, I laughed and murmured to myself, "Hah, if you'd asked a Londoner, they'd have said to go right up to the gates of Mordor and pretend they had a delivery from the chippy. They'd welcome us in."

"Rhodri?" Elrond said, waving his hand a little to get my attention. I snapped back into the moment and shook my head a little.

"What language were you speaking?" Erestor asked, watching me curiously. "I haven't heard it before."

"It's the birthday song language," Glorfindel declared with a smile.

I hadn't realised I was speaking English and excused myself, giggling a little at the idea of its sole distinction being the birthday song.

"What did you say, anyway?" Elrond probed, intrigued now.

"Oh, merely that had this happened in my homeland, someone would have gone straight to the gates of Barad-Dur under the guise of delivering food, and they would have been allowed in without question."

The four of them stared at me in complete puzzlement.

"Surely you jest," said Olórin, looking like this was all a bit rich for him.

I shook my head. "You'd be amazed how many individuals were able to penetrate huge, very well-guarded organisations through stealth and a terrific lie."

"Stealth…" Erestor murmured. "I suppose it would not be implausible for a small group of travellers to slip in unnoticed through a less guarded way and simply… _un-make_ the Ring behind Sauron's back."

"We will have quite the task ahead of us finding a few individuals willing to make such a perilous journey," Elrond said, raising an eyebrow cynically.

"Not necessarily," Olórin replied. "The Men-"

"Oh, no you don't!" I said loudly, springing to my feet and pointing at Elrond and Olórin as my patience finally started to wane. "I've spent too much energy keeping you two from quibbling over this! We're leaving this topic now and getting dinner."

"Rhodri, we are _grown adults_," Elrond said breezily, waving a hand dismissively. "We can have a respectable conversation, you know."

"And yet I've had to carefully steer the conversation away from the _whos_ back to the _whats_ for the last few hours," I scoffed, before deciding to be more reasonable. "Well, fair's fair. I tell you what, I'll head out and get dinner for myself now and leave you two to discuss the topic as you pl-"

I saw Glorfindel shaking his head at me pleadingly, eyes wide.

This whole thing was getting quite farcical, I thought to myself as I saw now that Erestor was making a similar gesture to me.

Thankfully, Elrond and Olórin both noticed this, and looked surprised.

"Have we been… unreasonable, you two?" Elrond enquired.

"Rhodri never allowed it to reach that stage, I don't think," Erestor admitted shyly, blushing as he looked away.

It took a lot for someone like Erestor to say something like that, and it appeared to give the two of them pause.

"Perhaps the tension has been making us act a little… out of character, liable to say things we don't mean," Olórin murmured to Elrond, as if the realisation had just come to him. Elrond nodded in agreement, also newly-enlightened.

"Oh, my _god! _What in the name of Manwë's left nipple do you think I've been trying to tell you two all day?" I whispered disconsolately into my hands. "I might as well just shove my psychology diploma up my arse some days…" I took a deep breath, moved my hands off my face, and rose from my chair, addressing the room in a fabricated tone of serenity.

"I am going to get food now," I said calmly. "Join me if you wish, but the subject of the council tomorrow is closed for the evening as of the moment you leave this room." Without a backwards glance, I departed the room, hearing the others get up and follow me.

§

The next morning rolled around, bringing with it a renewed sense of propriety in Elrond and Olórin, much to my delight. They seemed to be trying extra hard to keep their behaviour in check as they spoke in level tones without any hint of even joking undercurrent. Perhaps, in hindsight, they were trying a little too hard, but I sure as heck wasn't about to tell them to loosen up.

As we started making our way to the porch adjoining the Hall of Fire, where the council was to be held, I espied a familiar face a way down the corridor.

"Oh, Boromir!" I greeted him enthusiastically with a wave. "Hello, there!"

Apart from filling out as the body does in adulthood, and looking a little weather-beaten, Boromir had hardly changed. A smile spread over his face as he strode over and greeted me genially.

"Rhodri, a pleasure to see you again," he said as he put a hand over his heart. "And Lord Glorfindel as well," he inclined his head to Glorfindel, who had come up beside me with a happy smile.

"Lord Boromir, what excellent timing!" Glorfindel said to him as he inclined his head in return. "We seek the opinions of Men in our council. I wonder, would you be so kind as to accompany us to the meeting?"

"Indeed. I seek Lord Elrond's counsel on something as well," Boromir added, looking a little concerned. "I had an odd dream, though I feel it is a vision."

"Ah, well, Lord Elrond will be holding the council, so I imagine you'll have an opportunity to discuss it with him after, if not during the proceedings," I confirmed with a nod. "Shall we?"

Boromir nodded and allowed himself to be escorted by us outside, where a few others were already seated, waiting for the meeting to start. Elrond was at the front of the room, and Glorfindel and I took the two chairs between him and Olórin, who was flanked on the other side by an antsy-looking Frodo. Further along the room sat Legolas, who looked troubled but waved and after some gesturing, agreed to chat with us after the meeting. An Elf I'd never met sat to his left, and then Boromir, who was joined by Aragorn shortly after. Beside Aragorn sat two Dwarves, and I got rather excited (I'd never seen Dwarves in real life before). They had short, stocky builds that looked incredibly robust, and had long hair and beards to match that were adorned with intricate wrought-iron clips. Their clothing was mostly leather and metal, and looked like the sort of thing that would barely have shown a scratch in a motorcycle accident, so hard wearing it seemed. Erestor sat to the side of the more elderly Dwarf, and that completed the circle back to Elrond.

When we were all seated and paying attention, Elrond rose from his chair and began to address us.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you may all have arrived here by chance, but I do not believe it is truly by chance. I believe it was fate that brought us here at this point, the very nick of time, to discuss the peril we find ourselves in."

After doing introductions around the room, Elrond launched into the backstory of the One Ring, and everyone listened raptly as he recounted everything from its making to its moment in the present day.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo," he requested kindly, gesturing at a stone plinth in the middle of the room.

Frodo stood uneasily and wandered over to it, all eyes on him, and placed the Ring down on it. After taking a deep breath, he seemed to make a shaky sort of peace with himself and, contented, returned to his seat. Olórin smiled at him warmly and pat him on the shoulder.

The silence was broken as Boromir suddenly stood up, eyes glued to the Ring.

"So it is true…" he murmured. Tearing his gaze away, he turned his body to face Elrond but addressed the hall. "I came to seek counsel on a dream I had. The Eastern sky grew dark, but there was a pale light lingering in the West. I heard a voice cry out, 'Your doom is near at hand! Isildur's Bane is found.' It would seem, however, it was not merely a dream." He looked back at the Ring and approached it slowly, sending the tension in the room skyrocketing. "It was a prophecy. Isildur's Bane..."

As Boromir put a hand out to touch it, Elrond stood quickly and called his name to get his attention. When Boromir appeared not to listen, Olórin got to his feet and started chanting the inscription on the Ring, recited entirely in the evil tongue of Mordor.

The effect was immediate. The room darkened and gusts of cold air blew through it, and Olórin grew tall and shadowy and perilous, his voice booming as he spoke. Boromir shrank away from the pedestal in fear, and everyone else began to quiver uncontrollably. The Elves, particularly disturbed by the language, doubled over in their chairs and covered their ears. I turned quickly to Glorfindel in concern, and then to Elrond on my left. They both looked to be suffering intensely, almost in physical pain from it. I put a hand on each of their shoulders, gripping tightly until Olórin had finished his unwelcome interjection.

Thankfully, the light flooded back into the room and the wind died down almost as soon as he stopped talking. The other attendees looked like they'd just seen someone torture a dog, thoroughly ruffled by the whole thing.

"Never before has anyone uttered words of that tongue in Imladris," Elrond said carefully, conveying his supreme displeasure to Olórin in impressively diplomatic notes.

"I hope it will never happen again," Olórin replied with an understanding nod. "But if we do not act now, that language might be heard in all corners of Middle-Earth! The Ring is altogether evil." He recoiled a little from the Ring in disgust and, giving Boromir one final warning glance, sat back down.

"It is a gift," Boromir returned, apparently having forgotten the horror he felt only moments ago. "Think of it!" he said, striding around the room impatiently now. "We in Gondor fight hard and long, and pay with our blood to keep the threat from the East away from your doors! Give the Ring to Gondor, let us use it against Sauron!" He made a forceful gesture, which did not help his sales pitch.

"You cannot wield it!" Aragorn said in frustration. "None of us can. It answers to Sauron alone, there is no other master for it!"

I felt concern wash over me as a petty argument started to break out between Legolas, Boromir, and Aragorn now. This wasn't the noble, well-mannered Boromir I'd met twenty years ago. This was someone who had been caught up in his father's desperation too long, and the Ring seemed to know it, to call him to it. He was drawn to its siren song like a moth to a flame, and it had already started to change him, becoming ever more evident as he started making comments about Aragorn's lineage in front of everyone.

The tiff was broken up by Elrond, who calmly requested that they return to their seats to focus on the matter at hand.

"We must now reach a decision as to what we will do with the Ring," Elrond said. "Wielding it is not an option," he added carefully. "Would anyone like to volunteer any suggestions for discussion?"

"Perhaps we should have asked Tom Bombadil to attend today," Erestor murmured thoughtfully. "He would have power over the Ring, I think."

"He would not have come," Olórin replied. "And he would not be persuaded to leave the forest he watches over, I do not think. I would not say that he has power over the Ring, either," he added. "More that the Ring has no power over him."

"Could we give the Ring to him to guard, then? He wouldn't become corrupted by it." Erestor persisted. The Dwarves nodded in agreement, and Frodo watched in interest now.

"Tom Bombadil does not see the use of the Ring," Olórin returned, shaking his head. "He cannot comprehend what it does to others, and he cares nothing about it. He would, in all likelihood, lose it or simply throw it away. He is not at all a suitable candidate."

A little dispirited now, Erestor fell quiet, and a tiny, collective sigh could be heard. Back to square one.

"Does anything, or anyone in Middle-Earth have the strength to guard and defend the Ring from Sauron?" Aragorn asked, looking worried by what he might hear.

"I doubt it very much," Elrond replied soberly. "I am sure no fit guardian could resist it forever, and the might of Sauron grows even without the Ring. He has the willpower and unscrupulousness to do anything to get it, and that alone means he would overpower anything we could make here."

"Then we only have two options," said Glorfindel now. "We can send it over the Sea, or we can destroy it."

"Those in Valinor would not not let it onto their shores," Olórin countered sadly. "They would say it is Middle-Earth's problem and not theirs."

I raised an eyebrow. _Not their problem._ "What shit," I muttered under my breath.

Olórin looked at me. "Did you say something, Rhodri?"

Uh-oh. Caught out. "Ah, sink it," I said loudly, thinking fast. "We could just go out on a boat into the middle of nowhere and drop it in the ocean."

The others looked at me curiously and I shrugged. "Why not? Curumo was always harping on about how the Ring had fallen into the Belegaer, never to be seen again. Why not make it come true?"

I didn't even care how silly the idea sounded at that point; I was just pleased to have gotten away with using obscene language during one of Elrond's fancy events. With any luck, it meant that I wouldn't get cornered later on for having not spoken up, either.

Strangely enough, a few were considering it, but Elrond put a stop to that fairly quickly. "The seas change, though, Rhodri, and things dwell in the waters that we know nothing of."

"Yes, good point, Elrond, yes," I said as I nodded fervently.

"_I heard what you said back there," _came his voice in my head as he briefly shot me the fisheye. I gave him a guilty smile and settled back in my chair.

"That leaves only one option, then," said the Elf I didn't know. "We must destroy it."

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" cried the younger Dwarf heartily as he grabbed his axe, leapt up, and delivered a mighty swing onto the Ring. The moment the axe touched the band, it exploded with a loud bang, sending pieces of iron flying all over the room. I hissed as a searing pain shot over my arms and torso, and I could see Frodo gasp and clutch his chest where his wound had been, a sweat breaking out over him. Apparently Morgul-wounds didn't appreciate attempts to destroy the Ring. Thankfully, the pain lifted after a few seconds, but the awkward pause that followed lasted a little longer as the room's eyes flickered between Frodo and me.

When we both straightened up in our chairs, Elrond warily continued.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed by anything we possess here, Gimli, son of Glóin," he said respectfully. "It must be taken to the fires of Mount Doom and unmade there."

"Impossible!" Boromir stood up again, clearly disgruntled by this suggestion. "How would we do it? We have not the armies to withstand the full forces of Mordor, and the _rest_ of you," he gestured at everyone else in the room, "_certainly_ do not. We could not overpower them to take the Ring in there."

"No, it would have to be a stealth operation," Aragorn mused.

Boromir shot Aragorn a poisonous glare, but Elrond quickly spoke up before another argument could break out.

"Indeed yes, Aragorn," he agreed. "We would need someone to volunteer to go on this dangerous journey.

"Oh! Rhodri and I can do it!" Glorfindel announced excitedly, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of such an adrenaline-fuelled task.

I saw a blood vessel show up on Elrond's forehead, and I knew he was suppressing the impulse to scream with laughter. A couple of the others who knew us looked like they were fighting similar urges.

"Beloved," I said to him gently, "the keyword here is _stealth_ mission, and I must regretfully remind you that we both possess the subtlety of a bonfire."

Deflated, Glorfindel's shoulders slumped and he nodded sadly, acknowledging that this was true.

"_How about I toss you in the air tonight, instead?"_ I asked him mentally. "_Will that cheer you up a little?"_

The disappointed look fell from his face and his eyes darted over to me, the sparkle starting to come back.

"_I'll take that as a yes."_

Elrond, swallowing hard, brought the topic back on track again. "Who will deliver the Ring to Mordor?"

A silence fell over us. Glorfindel was still itching to give it a go, but everyone else squirmed in their seats uneasily. Suddenly, Frodo stood up.

"I will take the Ring," he said quietly.

Olórin's eyes shut in horror as the peace and safety he was fighting for on the Hobbit's behalf was willingly given away.

"Though, I do not know the way…" Frodo murmured worriedly.

"You need not concern yourself, there, Frodo," Olórin said quickly as he rose as well. "I will help you bear the burden for as long as it is yours to bear." He placed a hand on Frodo's shoulder and smiled down at him kindly.

This placated Frodo somewhat, and then Aragorn stood and went over to him.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will," he said solemnly. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow," added Legolas as he left his seat now.

"And my axe!" Gimli rumbled enthusiastically. The room paused and stared at Gimli, whose axe had been destroyed only moments ago.

"I brought a second axe," he clarified quickly. A small "ah" of understanding rippled through the audience.

Boromir now got up and kneeled down in front of Frodo. "You carry the fates of us all, Master Hobbit," he murmured. "But if this is the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

"Six walkers-" Elrond began to say, when a noise from behind him made him turn around on the spot. The Hobbit known as Sam burst out from behind a potted plant and ran over to Frodo's side.

"Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" he exclaimed as he watched us stubbornly, daring to tell him no.

"Apparently not," Elrond replied with a wry smile. "It seems you're inseparable, even when Frodo is summoned to a secret council and you are not." He arched an eyebrow at him. "Very well. Sev-"

"Wait! We're coming, too!" came another shout as two more Hobbits materialised from behind two large pillars.

A few of the council members glanced over at the door as though they were expecting a clown car to show up and pop out another twenty Hobbits.

"You'd have to lock us up to keep us away," the slightly taller one said, folding his arms defiantly.

"And anyway, you need people of intelligence on this mission," the shorter one added, his face shining as he jabbed his thumb into his chest enthusiastically.

A small snort came out of Olórin, which he barely passed off as a sneeze.

Elrond paused for a moment. "Is there anyone else who wishes to attend?" He looked around the room, and everyone knew this was their absolute last chance to speak up.

Silence.

"Very good. _Nine_ walkers," he declared, looking like he would imprison anyone who interrupted him now. "You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great!" chirped Mr. Intelligent. "Where are we going?"

Olórin was not able to explain away his wheezing this time.


	66. Bitter pills and lacking thrills

**Violet:** No no, she grew. Check chapter 2. Her mother was medium height and her father was quite tall, so all five of the kids were bigger than Mum haha :P She would have been about 5ft 7 to start with, so a little above average, but not much.

In a moment of divine timing, the lunch bell rang, and we scuttled out to the dining room (fortuitously, today was cake and ice cream day).

The end of the meeting had created a dramatic shift in mood for all present. The Fellowship members had suddenly fallen very quiet, likely because the hugeness of the task had finally dawned on them, and they seemed rather depressed. The elder Dwarf, who was apparently Gimli's father, Glóin, appeared to be of two minds about his son's departure for Mordor: pride, of course, and anxiety for his safe return. The Elves, on the other hand, had for the most part become quite sanguine about the whole thing, especially Elrond. Or maybe it was just relief that the burden to manage this no longer sat with them. It was hard to tell.

The one exception was Glorfindel, who was still rather disappointed over not being able to go on the trip. I felt so bad for him that along with the ice cream I owed him in losing the bet, I gave him my slice of cake as well in an attempt to cheer him up a little.

"I wish there was something we could do," he murmured dejectedly as he picked away at his cake.

"Don't you worry about that, my love," I reassured him with a pat on the arm. "There's no shortage of things to be done at this point. We're about to get plunged into war, after all."

"I hate war," he moaned. "I just want an adventure." So this was Glorfindel under stress: pouty. It was hard to believe this was the same bloke who slew a Balrog. But then, it was Glorfindel. He was a person of contrast.

"Just because we're not going on _that_ adventure doesn't mean we won't be having any adventures at all," I said mildly. "After all, we'll be out on the battlefields soon enough, I fancy."

Elrond looked up now and observed me closely. "Not if I can help it," he murmured.

I sat there blinking for a moment. "You don't think that the world is going to come out of this without some kind of conflict, do you?" I said.

"Oh, the _world_ will, yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean _we_ will be embroiled in it, Rhodri," Elrond said smoothly.

"What on earth is _that_ supposed to mean?" I asked loudly, the shock temporarily stripping me of my table manners. "You're making it sound like we're having no part in this."

A few others looked up, the noise having disturbed them out of their love affair with their dessert. Glorfindel and Erestor were watching the exchange like it was an aggressive tennis match, eyes darting between us nervously.

"I mean, Rhodri, that our forces will be employed solely for the fortification of Imladris," he replied quietly, raising his eyebrows.

"You're not, in all seriousness, telling me that you're happy enough to let _mortals _fight this alone?" I whispered furiously. "All those resources we've been making, all the training- it's for _us_?"

"That is correct."

I was horrified. We had poured years into building up huge reserves of supplies and the best-trained warriors. Not that the Men and Dwarves were not hardy and skilled in battle themselves, but the Elves were the strongest and had the best endurance of any of the races. This was absolutely not the time to hoard those sorts of resources, and I could readily imagine the horrific conditions that would befall the mortal races without assistance from us.

"Tell me you're joking, and I promise I'll laugh," I said, feeling a hot wave of anger and disappointment threaten to take over my body as Elrond watched me calmly.

"Oh, no, none of this is in jest," Elrond replied casually.

Summoning the last of my forbearance, I stood up. "I need to speak with you right now," I said to him in contrived politeness.

His eyes flicked up at me nervously, but his face remained impassive. "I would rather not. I haven't finished my cake yet," he said simply.

"Elrond, you don't get a say in this now," I said through gritted teeth. "Get up."

"Rhodri, you would not make me leave the hall by force," he retorted serenely, taking another bite of his cake.

"Of course I wouldn't," I snapped quietly. "Don't be ridiculous. I would never use physical force on you. But you can be sure that verbally, I am about to drag you over the coals, and I don't care where I do it. Unless you want this to happen in front of everyone, consider this your last warning. Get up _now._"

"Oh, very well," Elrond sighed in resignation, standing up. Erestor made to get up as well, but Glorfindel put an arm across him to keep him seated, shaking his head.

Elrond and I left the hall without another word, walking in an extremely tense silence all the way up to his study. When we got inside and closed the door, he turned and faced me.

"What is it, then, Rhodri?" he asked, looking very inconvenienced about all this.

"Don't you dare try that," I snarled. "The gall of you, looking me in the eye and telling me that all the years we've spent making arms and war machines, farming huge reserves of grain, training all able civilians- it's to protect _Imladris? _From what?"

"From Sauron's forces, should they break through the other armies and travel further north," he said as though it were perfectly obvious.

"I can't wait to hear the rationale behind this. This is going to be mind-blowing," I said with a scornful laugh, putting a hand on one hip and beckoning at him with the other. "Come on, then. What's the genius catch that nobody else has thought of in protecting a city nobody's going to want to live in after all this?"

"There is no 'genius catch,' as you put it," Elrond replied with an insouciant shrug. "It is not our war. Did you not hear me yesterday? The time of the Elves is _over._ Our responsibility for the Ring ended when the Council adjourned today. Now is the time for the Men, Dwarves, and Shire-folk to step up and shine."

"Elrond, there won't be any _left_ if we don't support them through the wars that are about to come up. Do you have any idea how big the forces of Mordor and Isengard are?"

"I do, Rhodri," he replied coldly. "I paid close attention when you and Glorfindel and Olórin reported the goings-on in both regions."

"And you're still willing to let the South enter into a total bloodbath without a hint of our assistance?" I demanded.

"Correct," was all he said, his tone clipped.

I had to bite back the urge to give him a thorough lambasting, and once I had taken a couple of breaths, it hit me that something was deeply wrong.

"Elrond, please talk to me," I said, suddenly more gentle. "There is no good reason to hoard what we have right now, especially given the abundance of goods and our option of fleeing to Valinor if all else fails. This isn't like you. What's going on?" I had a feeling I knew what was behind this uncharacteristic behaviour, but I wanted to give him the chance to speak first.

"Nothing is the matter," he said curtly.

"That's not true," I shook my head. "You're the kindest person I know. The way you're acting right now totally belies that, though."

"Or maybe," he replied, his voice flinty, "you're not being objective enough. Are you caught up in ideals like Olórin, wanting to save the inconvenience of a few Shire-folk at the expense of us all?"

"Don't insult me like this, meldir," I warned. "I want to help you, but you're making it very hard to do."

"Then leave it be, Rhodri!" he answered hotly. "There is nothing to help, and nothing more to say about this."

He turned and made for the door. As he walked over, I called out after him. "She's going to marry him anyway, Elrond, irrespective of what you do or don't do. You can't make it difficult enough that Aragorn won't find a way."

Elrond froze before spinning around on the spot, eyes wide with outrage. This wasn't going to be pretty; I knew I'd hit the biggest and most sensitive nerve.

"How dare you," he said, his voice shaking with rage as he strode back over to me. "How _dare _you-"

He stopped mid-sentence as he noticed my discomfort, and his own expression became one of scornful enlightenment. "Ah, I see what is going on. You _want _him to succeed. The perfect love story, is it not? Another delightful rendition of the crowd favourite Beren and Lúthien-"

"Don't say that, please," I requested tiredly. "It's not true, and you know it."

"Oh? Your loyalty seems not to lie with me, if this current attitude is anything to go by," he continued contemptuously, as if trying to provoke a response from me.

"Cruelty and snideness don't become you, Elrond," I returned pointedly. "Remember, if you please, that I am your friend, _not _your punching bag."

"My friend? You offer so little proof at the moment when you're apparently willing to facilitate my daughter's death for the love of a mortal!" he hissed.

I winced and closed my eyes. I knew it wasn't really Elrond saying that, but his words stung bitterly all the same. When I opened them again, I caught a glance of Elrond's face. It was completely drained of all colour, and as he watched me apprehensively, I could see he knew he'd gone beyond the pale with that remark.

"I can't reveal what exactly I said to Gilraen when she came to me about Aragorn, as it was told to me in my professional capacity," I said stonily, struggling to finish my sentence as his words echoed in my head. "But of this you can be sure: I have always, _always_ been on your side. My loyalty has unfailingly been to you, and that's never going to change."

His shoulders slackened a little, and he looked stricken and thoroughly abashed.

"You need to accept that your daughter has made her choice, and unless you forbid her and ship her off to Valinor, she will go ahead and bind herself to Aragorn. That's your choice." I fixed my eyes on him tenaciously as I continued, pointing a finger at him now. "But I won't allow innocent people to die unnecessarily in a war they never asked for. Especially not because you think hoarding resources will somehow dissuade Aragorn from fulfilling the conditions you laid out to him. I will defy you on this, Elrond, make no mistake. Even if we don't send any troops, we must at least give what resources we can spare, and we can spare plenty."

Elrond said nothing, appearing quite numb. Deciding he needed some down time, I sighed, stepped around him and made for the door when he gently took my arm. I turned around and saw his eyes were filled with tears now.

"Are we still friends?" he whispered fearfully, his eyes leaking quite profusely. "Have I broken it?"

At that moment, the facade had dropped, and the pain I had felt from his comments evaporated.

"Oh, mate," I said with a gentle eye-roll. "You'll have to try a bit harder than that if you want me to leave you alone." I tugged him into an embrace and pat his back amiably before holding him at arm's length to shoot him an impish smile. "I'm afraid, old darling, you're stuck with me until the bitter end. Try not to make a habit of the bitchy comments if you can help it, though," I added with a wink.

His face flushed. "No, no, I-I'm terribly sorry about that," he babbled. "I don't know what came over me…"

"I do," I replied confidently. "You've been putting off dealing with your thoughts for too long because you don't want any further hurt. I don't want you to hurt any more, either."

I sighed sadly as I looked at Elrond, the Elf who had been dealt the ultimate bum hand. "Unfortunately, things are likely to get worse from here on out, and there's not much we can do to stop it. We can only really do some things to make it all a bit more bearable for ourselves and everyone else."

Elrond nodded uncomfortably.

"Are you nodding merely to appease me, Elrond, or are you actually going to do something about this?" I enquired warily.

"No, I'll- I'll do something. I just don't quite know how to start," he mumbled uneasily.

"Well, if I can offer some unsolicited advice, you have three friends who are sticking to you right now like shit to a blanket. Make use of them," I said in amusement.

Elrond shuddered softly in disgust. "I do wish you wouldn't use that term, Rhodri. It's so… evocative."

"I know. Gets the message across wonderfully, doesn't it?" I gave him my best winning smile. "Now, let's go and see if Glorfindel hasn't eaten what's left of your cake."

I turned, my usual good humour back in full force, and went to the door.

"Rhodri?" came Elrond's voice from behind me.

I turned around. "Elrond, this is the second time I've been interruptied while trying to leave in pursuit of a snack. This had better be good." I jokingly put my hands on my hips and tapped my foot.

"I really am sorry," he said softly in genuine remorse. "I said such awful things back there that I can't imagine what I can do to make it better."

I rolled my eyes theatrically and sighed. "Look, Elrond, as soon as I saw that miserable, contrite look on your face, I knew you didn't mean it, and I've basically already forgotten it. Panic makes beasts of us all." I shook my head lovingly before speaking seriously. "But know that if I am in the same position myself one day, I expect to be treated with the same compassion. Do we have a deal?"

Elrond nodded quickly. "That goes without saying."

"Good. In which case, would you kindly stop dragging the chain so I can get something to eat? It's not all about you, you know." I raised an eyebrow at him jovially.

With a tentative smile and a nod, Elrond quickly strode over and left the office with me.

When we arrived back in the dining room, Glorfindel quickly got up and zipped off, saying "I'll be right back," as he shot past us.

Baffled, Elrond and I went over and resumed our seats with Erestor. Just as Elrond noticed that his plate was empty, Glorfindel reappeared and put a plate with a new slice of cake in front of him.

"Something happened to your other piece," Glorfindel mumbled nervously as he sat down beside me.

"Must be a mouse around here or something," I offered. Glorfindel nodded. Elrond, however, looked horrified at such an accusation.

"I'll have you know Imladris is free of mice!" he said indignantly. "Borgil works very hard to ensure that."

"Oh, you mean it wasn't a mouse that took my cake that day I stepped away to speak with Sidhiel?" I enquired, raising an eyebrow at him.

Elrond blushed. "Well, perhaps there is one mouse Borgil hasn't managed to catch," he murmured distractedly as he quickly took another mouthful of cake.

As Elrond finished his cake, I glanced down the table and saw a rather troubled-looking Boromir sitting alone with the last mouthfuls of food untouched on his plate. He noticed me and stared back sadly. I jerked my head in the direction of my office, hoping he would understand the offer to speak with a psychologist. He seemed to, nodding and making to stand up.

"I've got an errand to run, so I'll see you all a little later," I said quickly, hopping up again and departing the dining hall.

Boromir and I walked separately to my office. I opened the door and went inside, not closing it behind me. He followed after and shut it, taking a seat on the other side of my desk.

"Fancy talking with a psych for a bit?" I offered, pouring him a glass of water.

Boromir nodded.

"The terms and conditions haven't changed since the last time we spoke, so I'll let you read through the contract and sign for yourself," I passed him a confidentiality form, which he signed. The last one had been on Denethor's behalf, hence having to repeat the process for Boromir now.

When he handed back the autographed form to me, I took it with thanks and said, "So what's been happening, Boromir? Seems like a lot has changed in the last twenty years."

Boromir swallowed hard. "Indeed," he returned mournfully. "Since last you saw him, my father has sunk lower and lower into despair. I had anticipated it would impact his ability to rule, but it has not. It appears _that_ was the only thing that came out unscathed." He wrinkled his nose bitterly as the last sentence came out. "We are as prepared as we can be for Sauron's invasion, but the smaller waves of attacks have not come without cost to our men and resources."

"That must put an awful lot of pressure on you as the Steward's eldest," I remarked as I made a note.

"More than I like to even think of," he replied with a weary sigh. "His desperation is crushing to behold, and I would do anything to keep my people safe from what he predicts will happen."

"What is it your father predicts?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Total annihilation," he said laconically.

"You must be keen to right these things for the sake of your father also, no? I get the impression you love him dearly."

"I do," he acknowledged. "I know he feels the same about me, and if I could pull him back from the brink of losing himself, I would."

"How are you feeling, yourself?"

Boromir paused and looked at me in surprise.

"Nobody has asked me that," he murmured quietly.

"I am now," I said with a gentle smile. "Take your time and think about it if you need to."

He sat quietly, tapping his thumbs together as he turned my question over in his head. "I… I suppose it is a mixture of feelings."

"They often are. What does your mixture consist of?"

"Well, worry for my father, of course, and also for Gondor," he professed. "I feel some of the desperation my father feels now at the thought of us being crushed and forced to submit to Sauron, but also some… hope, I suppose you might say."

"Where do you draw your hope from?"

Boromir looked down at his still-tapping thumbs nervously, saying nothing for a moment. A sweat started to break out on his brow.

"I'm not going to forcibly extract an answer from you, Boromir," I disclosed, "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. But I will tell you that it is in your best interests to make whatever answer you give me an honest one, otherwise I won't be able to help you."

The sweat dripped onto his cheeks like tears as he looked at me fearfully.

"Take a sip of water first," I said, nudging the water glass closer to him.

He grabbed the glass and drank deeply, wiping his mouth on his sleeve before speaking.

"It is the Ring that gives me hope, Rhodri," he whispered, a glimmer of promise in his grey eyes. "I am so sure that if it were given to my father, he would wield it with circumspection and wisdom. This delivery to Mount Doom is a fool's errand, I am certain of it."

I put my pen down and folded my hands. "Let's take a look at what you just said for a moment, all right? When you think about the possibility of the Ring being wielded by your father to restore glory to Gondor, what happens when you step back and look at it without any emotion?"

"Without emotion?" he asked, puzzled. "Is it possible?"

"It's hard when you have a vested interest in it, but we can make it easier by switching places for a moment." I dug a finger into the collar of my shirt and pulled out the sapphire on the chain given to me by Elrond on my wedding day. Also fastened to the necklace was the silver betrothal ring from Glorfindel. I flicked the catch and took the ring off the chain, putting it on the desk between me and Boromir. Boromir flicked his eyes down to the ring, and then up at me again, waiting for me to say something to explain what on earth I was doing.

"What if I told you that this ring right here was the solution to all your problems?"

Boromir's eyes widened. "That is your _betrothal _ring! I- Rhodri, good gracious, you are a married woman!" he spluttered, face going scarlet now.

"Oh, for god's sake, Boromir, don't flatter yourself. I'm not asking you to marry me," I snapped at him, rolling my eyes. "I'm telling you for the purpose of the scenario that my engagement ring is a very powerful ring that you could wear and it would solve your problems. What would you think of that?"

Relieved, Boromir cautiously took the ring and held it in his outstretched palm.

"I would not believe you," he said after observing it for a moment.

"Why not?"

"Because it… it is not suitable for what I need," he answered slowly. "And besides which, it is much too small for me, see?" He tried putting the ring on his littlest finger, and it didn't even get past his nail bed.

"So you mean you cannot wield it, and even if you could, it wouldn't do what you wanted it to do?"

"Mm," he grunted in affirmation, putting the ring back on the table.

"How do you know that it won't work for you?"

"Because it was made for you," he replied with a shrug. "The magic it can do for you is limited to the owner."

"Right. And so what is it that makes anyone but Sauron fit to use a ring that he made for himself?"

"That is completely different, Rhodri," Boromir said with a laugh. "One need only exercise willpower and the Ring is mastered."

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, I'm afraid," I said grimly. "That Ring cannot be mastered. It is an extension of Sauron. He poured a large part of himself into it when he crafted it." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you think you can master Sauron?"

"No," Boromir replied, "But I think I could just borrow the power a short while to overwhelm him."

I watched him for a moment before getting up and walking around the desk to him. "Boromir, can I borrow your arm for a moment, please?" I asked politely.

Confused but compliant, Boromir lifted his arm up for me to take. I gently grabbed his wrist and held his hand steady with my thumb as I brought it over and started softly whacking it against his cheek.

Now completely baffled, Boromir let this go on for a few hits before tensing his arm and ceasing the process.

"Ah. You put a stop to that fairly quickly, didn't you?" I said to him with a smile. "Long before I could do any real damage to you, too."

He looked unsettled and nodded. I let go of his arm and sat back down in my seat. "Think about what you could have used your hand for if you felt like hurting me as punishment."

His eyes widened a little as he put a hand over his mouth contemplatively.

"Look, Boromir, I can give you all the advice in the world about this stuff, but it's not going to be worth the air it uses unless you take action."

"What would you suggest I do?" he mumbled from behind his fingers.

"At the very least, be realistic about what the Ring can do for you, and how tempting it is. Intellectually, you know nothing good will come of it, but your emotions are so strong, and it's because of the Ring that they are. It's tempting you, and you know it. You even made to take the Ring in front of everyone at the Council. Nobody else dared touch it. What do you suppose that says about your self-control?"

He didn't answer, brows starting to knit a little.

"Boromir, you need to really think about whether you have it in you to resist the Ring, and whether you really should be a part of a quest that places you in close proximity to it all the time. It's not a personal failing if you can't. True strength lies in acknowledging your limits and doing the right thing for everyone. Elrond won't touch it because he knows it could corrupt him. Same with Gandalf, same with all of us. It's about being practical, capitalising on your strengths to benefit everyone."

Silence descended on the room like a fog, broken only when Boromir finally said, "My father will be disappointed in me."

"Your father isn't really in a capacity to make many good judgements right now, I'm afraid," I said with a regretful shrug. "Sometimes you need to bear someone's misplaced disappointment for a short while in the interest of the greater good."

Boromir sighed and stood up. "I should leave, I think, Rhodri. I have much to think about now."

"Come back and see me whenever you want, all right? I know it's hard, but you don't have to bear this burden alone. My door is always, always open to you."

He gave me a sad smile and nodded before inclining his head and leaving the room.

I let out a puff of air and picked up my guitar, strumming it sadly as my stomach churned. I had a bad, bad feeling that things would go poorly for Boromir if he left with that group. But it wasn't my choice to make.


	67. Sail on by

Elrond was a little rattled for the rest of the week, but seemed to return to his baseline level of stress after that. Meaning, essentially, that he stood a few steps away from the precipice of complete meltdown and not right on the edge as he was before. That was about the best anybody could hope for at this point, and none of us were complaining.

In that remarkable way that animals have, Borgil, now quite an ancient cat of twenty, had picked up very acutely on his master's stress, and had spent much of his days purring like a motorcycle on Elrond's lap. He seemed to have extended a free pass to Elrond to worship him as much as he wished, and it did Elrond good to have his little marmalade moggie close by.

Moth, who was clever as they came, triaged the room and found Elrond had the greatest need even with Borgil's assistance. Accordingly, he would spend an almost absurd amount of time draped around Elrond's shoulders like an aged fur stole.

I was half-tempted to go to Singlis and Oldreth and ask for a cat for myself. The session I'd had with Boromir had been looping in my head almost without pause the entire time, and I just couldn't seem to shake that foreboding feeling of his death. It left me wondering whether or not I had a case in having him preemptively thrown from the Fellowship as a precautionary measure. People _did _have visions in this world that were given much credence, after all. Why wouldn't I be taken seriously?

By chance, I ran into Boromir early one morning on my way to my office.

"Oh, Boromir," I caught him quickly. "Do you have a moment?"

He nodded and I pulled him over to the side, checking we were alone.

I leaned in. "Did you think any more about what I was saying the last time we spoke?" I asked under my breath. "You know, about departing from the Fellowship."

"I have, my Lady, but I have not reached a decision," he replied. "I will need more time to consider it, I feel."

I nodded. "Fair enough. Well, I'd better let you go. You take care, and do err on the side of circumspection, all right?"

He smiled a little, inclined his head, and went on his way.

That was a less than satisfactory answer, but there were still some three weeks until the Fellowship was due to depart, as we awaited updates from scouts regarding the whereabouts of the Ringwraiths.

During that time, in his renewed state of functionality, Elrond quickly got himself (plus Glorfindel, Erestor, and me), to work penning letters to various trusted contacts around Middle-Earth advising of the Fellowship's journey and requesting that they afford the Fellowship help where they could.

It was quite good that he did issue us such time-consuming requests, because in addition to not being a Fellowship member, Glorfindel had also not been allowed to ride out as one of the scouts, either. Elrond feared he might (read: definitely would) attract too much attention. I wasn't permitted to go for similar reasons, but I wasn't too concerned either way. It meant I had a little time up my sleeve to check on a few more members of the Fellowship before they departed.

The very person I had been most hoping to speak with appeared outside my office one afternoon about a week after the Council.

I was walking back from lunch with the gang and saw Frodo uneasily waiting by my door. With a wave goodbye to the others, I went over to him and smiled.

"Hi there," I greeted him sunnily. "Are you waiting here for me?"

He nodded. Opening the door, I invited him inside and closed it behind me as I followed him in.

"I'm glad you came to see me. I was rather hoping to catch up with you before you set off," I said as we took our seats and I poured him a glass of water.

"Really?" he asked, taking the glass appreciatively.

"Mmm. But first, tell me what brings you here."

"Well, Bilbo mentioned that you're very good at helping people fix problems in their head," he began. "Not in the same way as Elrond. More like a physician."

"That pretty well covers what I get up to during working hours," I conceded with a smile. "If you think I can help you with something, allow me a few minutes of your time before we get started…"

Frodo, a rather circumspect type of person, listened carefully through my Ts and Cs spiel, asking for clarification where needed. I was very impressed. So many people tried to save face when it came to intellectual matters, something of which many Elves were very guilty. Not so with Hobbits, though. They were down-to-earth and realistic about their levels of education, which to me was a sign of true self-confidence and wisdom. When he had agreed and signed his name (in very careful, neat Tengwar, no less), we got down to business.

"To be honest with you, though, Rhodri, I'm not sure how much you can help me with this," Frodo said with a sigh. "Bilbo seemed quite sure you could do something, but I have my doubts. Not that I think you're not any good at your job, of course," he added quickly.

I shrugged. "There are limits to what I can help with, it's true. Your suspicion may be right, but that you showed up here suggests to me there's a chance I could help and you're willing to give it a try. What's the worst that could happen? You spend an hour talking with someone and you don't have a solution. How many times has that happened in your life before?"

"Oh, quite a few times," Frodo admitted with a smile, before nodding to himself. "Very well. Rhodri, I worry about bearing this Ring. Very much."

"Smart move," I gave him the thumbs up. "It's not the kind of thing you want to underestimate. If you weren't worried, I'd be terrified for you."

"Mm, but the constant worrying is exhausting all the same," he replied wearily. "I rarely get any peace these days, and we haven't even set off yet. I think I really have a problem."

"Tell me a little bit about what happens when you worry. Can you walk me through what happens in your head when it's going on?"

He hummed contemplatively as he picked up his glass and gently swirled the water around. "I see a lot of frightening things in my head. Being captured by those Riders, getting stabbed again, the Riders hurting my friends…" Frodo shuddered quietly as he drew his shoulders up a little.

"Do you relive the moment you were stabbed by the Nazgûl, Frodo? Or avoid things to do with swords?" I asked, hoping this wasn't indicative of a post-traumatic stress disorder.

"No," he shook his head, his soft brown curls dancing a little as he did. "I feel quite at ease here in Rivendell, as a matter of fact, the nervousness notwithstanding."

"Well, that's good to hear," I said mildly. "So the thoughts come into your head. What then?"

"There isn't much that happens after that, really," he replied heavily. "I simply feel… helpless. Powerless to make any real difference. But I know I must do this. I just don't know how to make it happen."

"That's perfectly fair, Frodo. You've really been thrown in the deep end here," I agreed.

Frodo looked thunderstruck. I shrugged.

"What? It's true. You know it is. It's not like you've been raised with the knowhow for this kind of thing. If you're anything like most Hobbits, you grew up in the hinterlands, didn't travel much, and probably only found out about this whole situation fairly recently, right?"

"That is… quite correct," he admitted.

"Then why wouldn't this all come as a huge shock to you? This, your first trip away from home? Talk about a baptism of fire, honestly. You're well within your rights to be anxious. You do have a problem, and it's that damned Ring."

Frodo sat with that last sentence for a few moments before speaking."I'd still like to try and master it a little, even if it is justified," he said. "I know that there lies even greater tests of fortitude beyond what I've already experienced on the road ahead."

"Very astute observation," I said with a nod. "Well, let's have a think about it. What are you already doing to manage these feelings when they come up?"

"I try to quash them, or I distract myself by speaking with Bilbo."

"Distraction is a good idea when you need a quick fix," I encouraged with a nod.

"Yes, but a quick fix is all it is."

"Indeed. Do keep it in your arsenal, though, because longer-term solutions can take a while to kick in."

"Do you have any longer-term solutions?" he broached cautiously.

"I most certainly do," I said with a smile. "Really, Frodo, I think the best thing you can do when you're feeling afraid is to simply allow it."

"B-but I'm trying to stop it, not encourage it!" Frodo spluttered, not pleased with the suggestion at all.

I held up a hand calmly. "I know, it sounds counter-intuitive, doesn't it?"

"Well, yes, it does," he exclaimed with a fervent nod.

"It definitely helps, though," I said with a nod. "Picture this: you own a shop. Stay with me on this," I added quickly as he frowned a little, making it fairly evident he thought the cheese had well and truly slid off my cracker.

"The front door is kept open so patrons can come in, but one day, a bull escapes from a field and comes crashing into your shop. Would you block off the doorway and stand in front of it to try and make it behave itself?"

"No, definitely not," Frodo replied firmly.

"Why not?"

"Because it will do more damage when it's trapped in there than if we kept the door wide open and—oh." A flash of comprehension dawned on his face.

"Oh?" I asked with a smile.

"So it is better to not do anything about it than to try and stop it? Is that how I minimise it?"

"You're on the right track, but not quite. Don't do nothing. You wouldn't sit on your hands and pay no attention if a bull ran into your shop. You acknowledge it. There is a bull in my shop. Similarly, you don't want to pretend you're not anxious or feeling helpless. Be honest with yourself."

"Tell myself I feel nervous?"

"Be specific. You're not always nervous. But you're getting nervous feelings. But you know, that's all it is. A feeling. Justified or not, a feeling is only a feeling. Observe it and let it float out the same way it came in."

"Will that really work?" Frodo asked, frowning a little.

"It'll work better than bottling it up and ruminating over it for hours at a time. You'll still get plenty of anxious thoughts—you'd be unwell if you didn't in this situation—but you'll find them much more manageable if you can get into the habit of acknowledging them and letting them pass in their own time. They'll go much quicker than if you hang onto them."

"What if they're really persistent?"

"Some will be," I admitted. "Do you have anyone on the trip you can talk with about it?"

"Gandalf, perhaps," he murmured thoughtfully.

"Gandalf's very clever with this sort of thing," I encouraged. "And he cares for you a great deal. If he could help lighten your burden by listening to your concerns from time to time, I can guarantee you he would do it in a heartbeat." I smiled. "Try getting into that habit for the next week or two while we wait for the scouts to return with some news, all right? Come and see me again if you find it isn't helping, and we'll look at something else, yes?"

Uncertain but looking a shade more confident than before, Frodo nodded and got up.

"Oh, how's that wound of yours, by the way, Frodo? I forgot to ask."

"Honestly? It is still a little painful," he said quietly.

"I can imagine," I replied. "Do be sure to see Lord Elrond again before you set out if it's still giving you too much grief, all right?"

Frodo gave me a soft, tired smile, and with another nod, he left my office. I made a handful of notes in his file and put it away, wondering where to go from here. The glaring deficit of useful ideas forced me out of my chair and I wandered into Elrond's study, sure that he would throw me a bone of some sort.

"Ah, welcome back," Elrond said as he looked up from his work. Glorfindel and Erestor smiled at me, and Glorfindel shifted some papers to one side so that I could sit with him.

"You came at just the right time," Glorfindel said to me happily. "I have completely run out of work to do." He gestured at the papers to his left, which all bore his flawless penmanship.

"Mm," Erestor hummed in agreement. "I seem to be in want of work, myself."

"That makes three of us, then," I said. We all looked at Elrond and said his name in chorus, like baby birds pestering their mother for food.

Elrond seemed not to hear, busily scribbling out a couple of sentences before setting his pen down.

"Four of us, in fact," he said. "I'm astonished, really. I hadn't ever envisioned running out of paperwork at a time like this, and yet here we are."

"I'm quite shocked, myself," I murmured in agreement. "Is there something we've overlooked?"

"Nothing that I can think of," Elrond admitted, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well, we could always take Happy Hour a little early," he suggested.

None of us were inclined to say it was unlike him; our Happy Hours had been so few and far between these days that we snapped them up whenever they were offered.

Our brisk walk ended up being a leisurely amble during which time we said little, the shock of a fully completed workday having stunned us into silence. We strolled around the gardens, where we came across Legolas, who was sitting peacefully on a bench by the root vegetables, watching the world go by. He saw us and gave us a warm smile and a wave.

Seizing the opportunity for new amusement, I called out to him.

"Hey, Legolas! Where was that catch-up you promised us?"

Laughing, he got to his feet and strode over to us.

"It is available now, if you're interested," he replied jovially.

"What do you think? Time for a sit down on the balcony?" I asked the others. They all looked very pleased at the idea of a distraction, especially since getting news from Legolas technically counted as work, what with him being the prince and everything. Very satisfied with ourselves and our excellent work ethics, we made tracks for Elrond's study again.

"So what's been happening in your neck of the woods, then, Legolas?" I asked as I passed him a (purely occupational) wine.

"Ah, yes, as a matter of fact, that was the reason for my coming to Imladris in the first place. I had news to deliver, and I had planned to do it at the council, but I never quite found the right time to speak up about the matter," Legolas began.

"Yes, if I recall correctly, you did look a little troubled when we had assembled," Elrond remarked thoughtfully. "What was the news, then?"

"I can't believe I am leaving it so late to tell you," he replied regretfully.

"What is it?" Erestor asked.

"Gollum escaped."

Elrond had made to take a sip of wine as Legolas spoke, but this revelation had given him such a surprise that he did a hard double-take and sloshed some wine out of his glass. Glorfindel, quick as a wink, cupped his hands underneath and caught the escaped beverage before it could stain Elrond's robe.

"Remarkable," Erestor murmured in amusement as he watched Glorfindel drink the spilled wine out of his hands.

"It was an excellent catch, but really, Glorfindel, you could have just dumped those few spilled drops over the side of the balcony," Elrond said with raised eyebrows as he pursed his lips a little.

"Saving is a virtue, Elrond," Glorfindel replied smoothly as he sucked the liquid up.

I glanced over at Legolas and saw him sitting in disbelieving silence, fixing Elrond with a stare that clearly suggested he thought Elrond was as responsible for this absurd situation as Glorfindel.

Elrond happened to look up quickly enough to see this, and in an attempt to save face, exclaimed,

"This is wildly tangential," shaking his head as if to disavow the situation. "Gollum escaped, you say?"

"Yes," Legolas said slowly, only gradually letting the strangeness of the last few minutes pass. "The guards took him out now and again for fresh air. The poor creature was living in the most heavily guarded cell, deep in the lower dungeons, and we didn't have the heart to leave him in there all the time."

"And he escaped?" Glorfindel murmured in surprise?

"Well, yes, he did," Legolas admitted. "But not because we wouldn't be able to catch him. He used to climb up in the trees but would eventually come down again. The day he got away, though, the guards escorting him were ambushed by Orcs in the forest. None of the guards were harmed, thankfully, but there was enough of a pause in their monitoring that Gollum had the chance to escape."

"Does Gandalf know about this?" I enquired after a moment.

"I told him after lunch yesterday," Legolas replied with a nod.

The quiet that followed had strong undertones of dissatisfaction. But what could we do? Frodo and co. would be on the road soon, and Sauron presumably had no idea where to find them. And it wasn't likely that Gollum, sure to recognise his imprisoners and torturers, was in any hurry to make his presence known to them again.

"Círdan sent a message to my father that Bregedúr and Daereth safely boarded the ship," Legolas said softly, breaking the silence.

We all turned and faced Legolas awkwardly, but he didn't look at us. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, his face slightly twisted into a concerned expression.

"They'll barely have enough time to get the place set up before you show up and make a mess, leaving your bows all over the place," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder as I shot him a small smile.

Legolas snorted gently and rolled his eyes at me before sighing. "I do worry about this journey, though," he murmured, the mirth melting off his face.

"That is quite understandable," Elrond assured him. "This is no ordinary scouting mission."

"I wonder if I could ask a favour of one of you…" he continued.

"Any of us would be happy to help if we can," Glorfindel said with a confident nod, the rest of us murmuring in agreement. "What would you like us to do?"

Legolas inclined his head gratefully. "I presume at least one of you will be sailing west in the near future," he began.

"You presume correctly," Elrond confirmed.

"I wonder if you might deliver a letter to Bregedúr and Daereth for me on my behalf. Not that I believe anything will happen-" he added quickly.

"Oh, no, no, of course not," Elrond and Glorfindel concurred, shaking their heads.

"Just in case you'd forgotten to mention something before they left, I'm sure," I offered.

"Yes, precisely," Legolas confirmed with relief. "Yes. Just a few reminders and footnotes. Could you bring it to them in case I'm… ah… delayed?"

"Not a problem, Leg of Lamb, we'll get it to your girls safe and sound if you're dragging your feet on that mission," I guaranteed him with a wink.

"Thank you… I think," Legolas mumbled warily as he took a sip of wine.

The dinner bell ringing was the most welcome sound we'd heard all afternoon, especially after we'd spent the last half hour skirting around accidental death clauses. We got up and left our half-empty wine glasses as we scuttled out to eat food we weren't particularly hungry for.


	68. Stable Instability

Another two weeks went by at a rather unsteady pace. The days were getting colder, shorter, and darker. Not that that was anything I wasn't used to. We got shorter winter days in the UK as well, not to mention the fact that I'd been in Middle-Earth for going on five millennia now. No, this was an instability of the type where an otherwise very slow day was punctuated with only one or two interesting events.

One would think I wasn't wanting for interesting tasks at all, but the reality was that we were effectively hamstrung until the scouts (among them Elladan and Elrohir) returned with news of the Ringwraiths. In earlier days, I'd pictured seizing the opportunity to spend time with my youngest nephew on the rare occasion he swung by Imladris. The hope of seeing much of him, however, was cut fairly short because he was very busy with Arwen doing who-knows-what.

That's all right. Love can do odd things to people. I told myself we'd have plenty of time to play checkers and go camping later on, and instead turned my thoughts to the Fellowship's quest. I'd had a few short group sessions with the four Hobbits, talking about various coping mechanisms in the event that things got tough. In a way, the sessions did both exactly what I wanted to do, and what I had hoped would not happen.

"How come you're showing us all these breathing exercises and mindfulness and intellectualisation things anyway, Rhodri?" Pippin asked me when our last session had come to a close.

I glanced at him, wondering how to answer that. He added quickly, "Not that I didn't like them or anything. Practicing intellectualising things made me feel like Gandalf." The other Hobbits made noises of agreement at that.

"Well, I suppose because you will more than likely find that there are times in this journey that give you a lot of stress," I said cautiously. "It's not a particularly safe direction you'll be travelling in at this point."

Pippin looked at the others worriedly, seeming to be the most surprised of them to hear this. At the other end of the spectrum, Frodo had rather gloomily accepted that this was going to be one pig of a quest, sighing sadly.

I sighed in sympathy. "Look, here's the thing. Nowhere is safe. You didn't know this before you came here, perhaps, but things have been unsafe for thousands of years now. You're just becoming aware of it."

"That doesn't really make the situation any happier," Merry grumbled softly.

"No, that's quite true, but you're a clever bunch, and you know it's better to go into a hard situation knowing as much as you can and having the skills to deal with the situation," I commented.

They conceded that they were indeed clever (Pippin especially), and sat with their thoughts awhile.

"Do you think we'll die on this quest, Rhodri?" Sam asked, breaking the silence.

Bugger. Of all the questions he could have asked, why did it have to be the heaviest one?

"That's a hard one to answer," I answered carefully. "Like I said before, nowhere is safe. You're at risk of dying anywhere at this point. It really depends on what sort of predicaments you land in, if any."

They didn't appreciate the vagueness of the answer and shifted uneasily as they scrutinised my face, looking for more answers. Accordingly, I proceeded a little further.

"I'd argue that your main risk to your health and wellbeing is running into enemies, basically. You can forage for supplies easily enough, natural disasters are unlikely, and you Hobbits are strong folk, so I don't anticipate some preventable illness carting you off. We're trying to do something about reducing the number of enemies you're likely to come across."

"Oh? What's that?" Frodo asked with interest.

"Well, two things, actually," I backtracked. "The first is that we are getting in touch with a lot of allies to keep an eye out for you as you pass through their lands and make it as easy for you as possible. They'll probably take you in from time to time and let you rest while they watch out for trouble."

They seemed a little heartened by this. "What's the second thing?" Pippin enquired.

"Well, we'll no doubt be descending into war within the next few months. Lots of places will be. Wars mean lots of organised travelling without many strays around, so I'd imagine that a lot of the people you need to worry about will be very concentrated in most places, but quite sparsely distributed in others. Stick to the sparse areas and you'll really cut down your chances, d'you know what I mean?"

"What places are they?" Frodo pressed urgently.

I shrugged. "Big cities, mostly. Minas Tirith, Edoras, most of Mirkwood… I doubt you'll be stopping in any of those places. Aragorn and Gandalf will be taking you on the road less travelled for sure."

"Well, I suppose that's about as good as we can hope for, isn't it?" Sam mumbled worriedly.

"Unfortunately, it pretty much is," I confessed with a nod. "You're in great hands, though. Gandalf and Aragorn are sharp as tacks, and everyone you've got in your company is a real boon in conflicts, let me tell you."

"Even Gandalf?" Merry raised an eyebrow. "He's very old."

"Oh my word, yes," I laughed. "Gandalf landed a blow on Sauron himself. Saw it with my own eyes. He's the kind of fellow you want on your team for certain."

This was also encouraging news, and as I related the story to them (conveniently skirting around the face-shattering punch I'd delivered to Curumo), they became more and more reassured, as well as seriously impressed by Olorin.

"I suppose, with your newfound confidence, it is important to remember not to let it lull you into a false sense of security. You're still very much in an unsafe position. Very much so. But remember that you have the skills to deal with your feelings, you're learning to wield your weapons, and you're a part of a group that will watch each other's backs. Your chances are as good as theirs if you keep your wits about you."

As the lunch bell sounded, we got up off my office floor, where we had been sitting cross-legged for the last few hours and made a beeline for the food. Well, the Hobbits beelined; I was walking at a normal speed which was enough to keep up with them as they hastily pursued the nosh.

I sat on Elrond's balcony with Elrond in the chilly afternoon, watching my breath as it hung in the air. Glorfindel had decided that cake was an appropriate food to pair with today's wine, and Erestor, having finally reached his limit with socialisation after months of nonstop contact, bowed out of Happy Hour to sit alone in his room for a spell.

Elrond was similarly busy. His eye was caught on the last cluster of frosted leaves that were still on the enormous beech tree in front of him.

My mind had been stuck on the conversation I'd had with the Hobbits earlier that day, and I couldn't help but utter a soft, disgusted "Ugh."

The noise was enough to snap Elrond out of whatever he'd been dwelling on, and he looked at me placidly.

"Mmm?"

"Do you ever feel like people just have no idea about things?" I asked.

"I do," he replied.

"Yeah. I'm frustrated about that."

"I understand," he murmured grimly as he looked out over the balcony to see Aragorn and Arwen walking together along one of the paths below.

We shook our heads in displeasure as our eyes went back to our previous distractions.

"Are you thinking of posting her off to Valinor?"

"Oh, if only you knew the temptation, Rhodri."

I shrugged. "I'm not normally for drugging someone against their will, but in the interest of encouraging her longevity, I totally wouldn't fault you if you put some of that sleeping draught into her soup and shipped her off while she was out."

"A debate that I ought not to have had with myself but indulged anyway, you can be sure," he muttered under his breath before turning to look at me. "Whom were you speaking of in this instance?"

"The Hobbits, actually," I said heavily. "They know enough about the situation thanks to your explanations at the Council, but god, they know nothing about the world outside of their hometown. What context can they possibly fit all of that information to?"

"I hate the unfairness of it, too," Elrond said after a while. "There is hope, to be sure, but so far everything looks…"

"Bleak…" I supplied.

He sighed and nodded. At that point, Glorfindel came out with three plates, each with a couple of small cream puffs on them. He picked up on the mood immediately and placed the cream puffs on the table, sitting down quietly in the vacant chair between me and Elrond.

_"I seem to have returned to a rather unhappy atmosphere,"_ Glorfindel observed mentally to me.

_"You're not wrong there," _I replied sadly._ "I'll fill you in a little later, yes?"_

He gave me a tiny smile and took my hand in his.

"Now the unpleasant question comes up again, though: what are we going to do about it?" I said to Elrond now.

Elrond's eyes wandered over to me, his head still fixed in the direction of the view. "Mmm…" was all he said for a while before he sighed, knowing I would just ask further questions until I got a better answer.

"We shall send large portions of our resources to Gondor and Rohan. Likely also some to Thranduil, as I do not doubt that Mirkwood will be under siege soon enough as well." He didn't speak it with any authority. Rather, it sounded like something he was considering aloud and just proposed on the spot.

Still, a deal's a deal, so even if it took some prodding, at least we were going to get somewhere with this.

"And, ah, what of our own forces?" Glorfindel broached cautiously. I got the sneaky feeling that Glorfindel, having been cooped up in an office for weeks at a time without any adventures or long leisure periods was even considering war to be a suitable distraction now. How one's standards drop when there is sod-all to do.

Elrond glanced over now blankly. "Oh, erm… I suppose I could just leave that to the two of you, actually. You've had command over your own units before. Just take a contingency of willing Elves with you to whichever of the battles you wish." He made a vague but sweeping gesture. "You'll have a range to choose from, I do not doubt."

Glorfindel and I looked at each other in surprise. This really was the best outcome we could have hoped for with this. Most unlike Elrond, who was so anally retentive that he practically squeaked when he walked, to just leave it to a couple of monkeys like us to carry out, though. Watching Elrond gradually drop his bundle was like watching an agonising slow-mo video of someone falling over. With that said, though, perhaps it was about time he did more delegation and had some 'me' time. Whether or not he would use the time to relax and enjoy himself remained debatable, but I dared not think on it.

"Right," I said once the shock had worn off. "Okay. Good to know. Is there, ah, anything you want to oversee with that?"

"No, no, I'll leave it all in your capable hands."

"Not to pry, Elrond, but is everything all right?" Glorfindel asked, broaching the question I had rather hoped he wouldn't. What was the point? When did Elrond ever readily open up to enquiries like that?

"Not really, no," he said with incongruent equanimity. "But what can we do about it?"

"You can always talk to us about it," I said with a shrug.

"You both already know what the matter is, though." Elrond slowly turned to look at us now, his eyes flashing gently. "What more is there to say?"

"What are you thinking about right now?" Glorfindel offered.

"You already know that," he said dryly. "There has been little else on my mind for the last… well, the last decades, really."

Glorfindel shifted his chair close to Elrond's and sandwiched one of Elrond's hands between the two of his. I got up out of my chair, walked behind where Elrond sat and rested my chin on his head.

"You two have the strangest methods of comforting people, you know," Elrond remarked casually.

"Is it working?" Glorfindel asked softly.

"Yes."

"Well, _we _are about to get very busy," Glorfindel commented that night as we lay in bed.

"Don't I know it," I said with a rueful laugh. "Where do we even go from here?"

"I suppose first we had better find out who among us is actually willing to fight," Glorfindel suggested.

"Mmm," I nodded in assent. "I'll be curious to see who's up for it. Something in me tells me our crowd will not be especially big."

"I get that feeling, myself," he replied uncomfortably. "Fleeing to Valinor must be a rather tempting prospect at the moment."

"Whoever we manage to recruit, I feel that we would be of most use in Gondor, to be honest with you," I continued, putting thoughts of Valinor out of my head.

"I am inclined to agree. And, not that it should sway our choices, I heard tell that the Haradrim have an army of Mûmakil at their disposal now." Glorfindel's eyes twinkled a little.

I turned over to face him. "Is that so?" I said, intrigued as all-get-out now.

"It might be enjoyable to get some climbing practice in- maybe even a little bit of Elf-throwing, too. You know, just to keep your strength up," Glorfindel added quickly, pursing his lips in a vain attempt to hide his smile.

"Well, our practising time is somewhat limited since we will have much to do during the day, so we might have to sacrifice some other things to fit it into our schedule," I said with a shrug.

Glorfindel's face fell. "Oh. That _is _a problem," he murmured.

"I think we might just have to go without sleep some days," I said thoughtfully.

His face lit up again. "Excellent idea," he whispered, giving me a winsome smile. "Well, it is only early yet. Perhaps we might have time to start tonight!"

"We might not get caught by Elrond if we just... I don't know... escaped via the balcony, for example," I recommended as I got up and started removing my pyjamas in favour of training gear.

"Ooh, it has been some time since we did that," Glorfindel enthused as he slipped his nightshirt off and pulled on some pants.

Once dressed, we grabbed our swords, and the great escape began.

Halfway between the balcony and the floor, a quiet voice said, "Be careful, you two."

Before I could recognise it as Elrond's, I let out a startled shriek, jolted hard, and fell the remaining three metres onto the grass.

I looked up and saw him hanging his head over the balcony, looking at a nervously climbing Glorfindel and then down at me.

"Well, nice to see that _one_ of you listened to me."

I dusted myself off and stood up, and said back, "Do you want to come with, Elrond? Good times guaranteed," as I gave him the thumbs-up.

Glorfindel paused where he was and in the light of the moon, I could see he was giving Elrond his most charming smile.

To our surprise, Elrond agreed. "Perhaps I will accompany you, yes," he murmured. "I will meet you downstairs, yes? Or would you rather come to us, Rhodri?"

I scowled. "None of your cheek, thank you, Elrond. Just get down here, will you?"

A soft, "Hah," came from him as he disappeared from the balcony, his robes swishing behind him. I looked over at Glorfindel, who was still high up the tree and hadn't moved down any more the entire time.

"Are you hanging up there hoping that I'll offer to catch you if you jump?" I enquired.

Silence.

"Glorfindel?"

"Were... were you offering then?" he asked hopefully.

I snorted. "Come on, then." I held my arms out and a couple of seconds later, Glorfindel was caught and swept onto his feet.

"As smooth as ever, beloved," he purred at me happily, putting a quick kiss on my head.

"I hope I am not going to impose on your night out," came a voice from behind us, where Elrond stood with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow.

Grinning at each other, Glorfindel and I swanned over to him and each draped an arm over his shoulders.

"Oh, Elrond, don't be ridiculous. There's no such thing as a good time without you," I crooned at him.

"You're our absolute favourite, without a doubt," Glorfindel drawled affectionately.

"The sibling we never had-"

"And the favourite one at that-"

Elrond chuckled as a small blush spread over his cheeks.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, you two," he reminded us with a raised eyebrow.

"We have no need for flattery as a means of transport. We have our legs for that. What we need to do is get_ you_ out to the patch of green beyond the pools," I said as Glorfindel and I marched off with Elrond squashed between us.

"And what is beyond the pools that persuades the two of you to break the curfew, then, hmm?" Elrond enquired.

"Clandestine training, meldir," Glorfindel confided with some animation.

"Cl- why does it need to be secret?"

"Elrond's not supposed to know we're out," I whispered to him urgently as I Glorfindel nodded and put a hand over Elrond's mouth.

"Not a word, all right?" Glorfindel hushed.

A muzzled Elrond glared at us but allowed himself to be swept off to the flatlands where nobody ever went.

"Here looks like a nice enough spot," Glorfindel declared. "Shall we begin?"

"Let's get to it." I nodded and rubbed my hands together before stretching my arms a little.

"Would either of you like to tell me what exactly your training regimen consists of?" Elrond piped up again.

"Do you want it to be described, or are you happy to participate?" I asked, not able to suppress a lopsided grin.

"I have no weapons!" he spluttered.

"Not a problem. Rhodri and I brought swords, and we can't both use them at the same time," Glorfindel said as he unsheathed his sword quick as a flash before he looked at me. "How are we going to do this?"

I drummed my fingers on my lips in thought for a moment. "Aim for the eyes. Straight through the eye goes to the brain, and that'll floor it for sure. What's eye level, probably about the height of that tree there?" I pointed at an enormous beech tree that must have been at least twelve metres tall.

Elrond listened to this exchange in abject horror before finally, unable to stop himself, he asked, "What in heaven's name are you two _talking_ about?"

We looked at him in surprise. "Oh," Glorfindel said, sounding as though he'd forgotten to buy the newspaper that day. "Mûmakil."

"M-_what?"_

"You know what those are," I replied cynically. "Huge, aggressive pachyderms that-"

"Yes, yes, I know what they _are,"_ Elrond said impatiently. "What are you doing preparing for them, though?"

"Well, we're off to war, in case you forgot." Glorfindel raised an eyebrow.

"Oh no," he moaned to himself quietly. "I didn't think you'd be off to Gondor."

We shrugged. "It's where the action is," I said.

"And likely where we will be most needed, of course," Glorfindel added quickly.

"And how do you intend to get up to eye level with these enormous creatures?" Elrond put his hands on his hips and eyed us cynically now.

"Observe." One gentle toss later, Glorfindel was shooting merrily up into the night sky, and deftly made a few stabbing motions before speeding back towards me, where I caught him and rocked him onto his feet.

Even in the pale moonlight, we could see that Elrond had blanched when we turned back around to face him.

"You do not seriously intend to _throw Glorfindel _ up into the face of a- _Rhodri!"_ he squeaked at us in disbelief as I nodded enthusiastically.

"Eru help me," he groaned into his hands. "Is this what I get for leaving the two of you to plan alone?"

"Do you have any feedback to offer?" Glorfindel asked with a smile.

Elrond let out the loudest sigh I had ever heard. "As a matter of fact, I do," he replied, exasperation springing out of every syllable. "For a start, you should use a bow and arrows and do a ranged attack if you must be thrown into the face of a Mûmak. Really, though, you should not be in their faces to begin with!"

"They shouldn't be in ours, and yet we find ourselves in this rather inexpedient situation," I returned.

He rubbed his brow with his hands before he sighed again. "If you are truly interested in cutting their numbers quickly, you know what you ought to be doing, and climbing up them to shoot their eyes with arrows is not it."

"To be truthful, Elrond, I really wanted to be thrown in the air awhile, and refining our Mûmak climbing skills seemed like a rather plausible excuse to break curfew and do that," Glorfindel confessed rather bashfully as he scuffed his foot on the grass.

"Oh, thank goodness," Elrond gasped in relief. "So you know what you should be doing instead already, I take it?"

"Erm... yes," I said as I glanced around shiftily, "but you look like you're dying to say it anyway, so you'd better just come out with it."

"Trip them."

"Now _that_ sounds like a fun challenge," I grinned as I rubbed my hands. "Something like wire or a long ram rod that I can just run through their legs to knock them off their feet seems suitable enough for that. Good thinking, Elrond!"

"Goodness, the stress you two cause me some days..." Elrond croaked.

"Flying might take your mind off it," Glorfindel said with a cheeky smile. "It's most enjoyable."

Elrond pursed his lips hard and stared at the two of us disapprovingly for I don't know how long.

"Well, perhaps once, then."


	69. The nitwit carpet conga

Only a few days later on a particularly nippy morning, Elladan, Elrohir, and the rest of the scouts returned with news of the Ringwraiths' whereabouts. Happily, the Nine had been forced to hoof it all the way back to Mordor in all that hot, heavy gear to get their arses chewed out by Sauron. Or at least that was how I pictured it. Coping mechanisms take strange forms sometimes.

On the flipside, however, this meant that the Fellowship had been cleared for departure in two days (on Christmas Day, no less). In one way, they seemed a little relieved that they weren't hanging about in uncertainty awaiting news. They also seemed to be constantly straining to keep their bowels from forcibly evacuating themselves, however, so that small relief came at quite some cost.

As far as things went for me, any concern I had was a first world problem sort of thing compared to what any of the Fellowship must have been experiencing. However, I still had two rather pressing tasks, and now that time was getting away from me, I really had to get my skates on.

The first thing was the easier of the two, and I had little worry that anything was going to go particularly wrong for it: speaking with Olórin. The day my elder nephews came back with the gossip from the East Side, I decided I had best just grab Olórin as soon as I could.

I snagged him after lunch and asked him for a moment or two in my office, which he kindly obliged.

"Is everything all right, Rhodri?" Olórin asked as he took a seat.

"I get the impression it's as all right as it possibly can be, given the circumstances," I answered thoughtfully. "I know it's a big gap between sessions, but I was just hoping to check in with you before you leave soon."

"Oh! Mmm," Olórin pondered aloud. "Yes, it has been quite some time, hasn't it? A few thousand years, I would say now."

"That sounds about right," I murmured as I pulled out his file and checked for the most recent year. "Goodness, 1620 was the last time. Quite a long while since we last caught up. How are things these days, then?"

"Well enough, I suppose," he replied with a shrug. "It seems that everything we have been speaking about over these last millennia have finally come to a head."

"You were quite anxious about that earlier on."

"I was," Olórin agreed. "Well, I suppose I am still."

"Do you think it's proportionate to the situation?"

"I have been wondering that, as a matter of fact."

"Oh? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I do, but I need this from the perspective of a fellow Maia, not only a psychologist."

"Got it. Lay it on me."

"To be honest with you, Rhodri, a foreboding feeling has been growing in my mind about this quest that I cannot seem to put to rest." Olórin confessed, tapping a long, wizened finger on the desk in front of him.

"So what's your foreboding feeling about?" I fished out a pen from the drawer, drew a line under the last session's notes, and wrote today's date.

"Death."

"Anyone's in particular?"

"Mmm, and that is precisely why I wonder if this is mere worry, or if it is more of a forecast."

"I suppose it would depend on a few things like the circumstances of the death and who dies," I pondered aloud as I jotted a note down. "So whom did you foresee not making it home, then?"

"Myself," he said nervously.

"Curious," I murmured. "I would have thought you would be one of the better bets when it came to who survived."

"As did I, to be perfectly honest with you, Rhodri. I think that is partially why I am so unsure about its plausibility."

"Well, it's not wholly unreasonable. Even though you have good odds relatively speaking, this isn't really what you'd call a stroll around the gardens. This is definitely a rather perilous sort of quest. At the moment, nobody on the continent is really in a position to call themselves safe."

"Mmm," he hummed back at me.

"In these foreboding feelings you get, do you ever see or get an inkling of how you die?"

"Not really. It is all very vague. When the thought does come into my mind, which isn't especially often, I feel for a moment like I am falling into darkness, so that could be anything, really. Do you think it could be a vision?"

"I don't know for sure. I think you would have to closely examine previous gut feelings against this one so you could categorise it correctly. Consider also that even if it is "just" a gut feeling that those can often have some truth or wisdom to them. I'd say take it seriously, but don't let yourself dwell on it too much. It might be worthwhile coordinating the trip on flat ground as much as possible just to be on the safe side. Or at least to make sure if you need to climb, that there's bright light around," I said after a moment. "If it is prophetic, stop it before it starts, you know?"

"I do not suppose there is much more I can do for it, really," he answered uncomfortably.

"Do you find that much else about the trip has you nervous? Like, for example, the success of actually dropping the Ring in Mount Doom, or anything to do with Sauron like you used to be bothered about before?" I probed a little further.

"Oddly enough, no," Olórin replied with a pensive frown. "I have outgrown my worries with Sauron now. Especially after landing a blow on him at Dol Guldur," he added, a small, triumphant smile curving his lips up for a moment. The smile vanished when he looked up at me and said, "I saw the death of another, as well."

My stomach churned a little as I found myself wondering if we had been sharing the same idea.

"Oh, yes?" I fought to keep my tone casual.

"Boromir," was all he said, and he scrutinised my face closely as he said it, as if knowing I would react. He was right, of course. The issue of Boromir had been the other concern that needed addressing, and this task would be far more taxing and difficult than hunting out Olórin for a check up.

My guts twisted at the mention of his name, and with a sigh I said, "Ah. Yes, Boromir has been on my mind as well."

"In the same context?" Olórin asked in a cheeky voice, one bushy brow slightly arched.

"Oh, please," I snapped. "At this point, you would be the more likely candidate to be daydreaming about Boromir. God, why does everyone think I'm flirting with them in this bloody place?"

"You know I jest," he said calmly, holding up a hand in a peacekeeping gesture. "Be assured, I have no interest in Boromir in that way, either."

"No, I didn't think so. My money's always been on you and Círdan, actually."

To my shock, Olórin's face skipped straight over the initial pink and red stages of blushing, going instead for an almost purplish hue.

"This is very off-topic now, Rhodri," he admonished me in a splutter before shaking his head a little.

"Play bitch games, win bitch prizes, Olórin," I said with a lazy, smug smile. "You know the rules: only dish out as much as you can take."

"Quite true," he mumbled ruefully.

"Now, Boromir's death," I said. "Why Boromir, then?"

"Likely the same reasons as your own, I fancy," Olórin replied. "I became suspicious of him as soon as the Ring was brought out during the Council."

"Mm, same here," I nodded stiffly. "He can't resist it. What can we do, though? We can't exactly throw the Gondorian delegate out on the whims of a concern."

"No," Olórin grunted in agreement. "He would have to be dissuaded and bow out of his own accord."

"Would you consider talking with him?" I asked after a moment.

"Perhaps I should."

"I don't think he will be easily dissuaded, though, Olórin," I pointed out. "If you speak to him about it, get him away from the vicinity of that damned Ring, otherwise it'll be Sauron doing the talking."

"Mmm. I doubt anything I say to him will really put him off, even then. Even if I told him I saw death in his future, I think."

My stomach turned at the thought of this going wrong. And every possible way to address this seemed wrong. I felt totally helpless, and when I looked at Olórin, I could see he felt it, too.

"Try today and let me know how it goes tomorrow, all right?" I requested. "Might give me enough time to try talking with him as well."

Olórin inclined his head. "Indeed. Well, I suppose I had best be off so that I can prepare my lecture for Boromir." He stood up and started to make for the door when I called out behind him.

"Hey, just so you know, Glorfindel and I are offering letter delivery to the Fellowship members presently, so in case there's anything you want to say to Círdan, feel free to write it and we will deliver it confidentially to him." I gave him a warm smile and took the opportunity to raise my eyebrow at him.

Not enjoying the shoe being on the other foot, a pink-cheeked Olórin scowled semi-playfully at me, rolled his eyes, and left.

Not long after that, I headed out as well, unendingly amazed by the dearth of things to do in the lead-up to such disastrous times. It was most unwelcome, because I would much rather have been snowed under with tasks than have the entirety of my brain to myself, listening to it panic and fret about what was to come.

I wasn't quite ready to sequester myself in another room for hours on end yet, realising that I had become rather restless. I found myself instinctively walking past Elrond's office straight down the stairs. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I had a feeling that I would find it down there. So what if it was the floor with the kitchens (and thus cake) and it was only about 11am? In these trying times, there is no unsuitable period of the day for such things. Especially when diabetes wasn't a thing here.

Securing a rather large slice of honey cake, I parked myself in the main courtyard and sat cross-legged on a bench under a bare-branched oak tree and started to munch contemplatively. Without warning, two entities plopped themselves down on either side of me. I let out a surprised yelp and barely managed to keep my fingers around my cake.

"Honestly, Auntie, anyone would think you found us ugly. You react with such terror whenever you see us," Elladan said as he moved my cake hand to his mouth and took a bite.

I went to open my mouth in protest, but Elrohir pat me on the back and brought my hand over to him for his share of my food.

"Now, now, Auntie Rhodri, we don't take it personally," he mumbled, cake crumbs going everywhere.

"What am I going to do with the two of you, hmm?" I asked, taking one last bite before splitting my cake into two pieces and giving them one each (another habit from their childhood which I had never managed to quash).

"Continue to be enchanted by us?" Elladan asked, fixing me with a saccharine smile as I received his bit of cake.

"And perhaps let us fight alongside you in Gondor?" Elrohir volunteered, mirroring his brother's honeyed expression.

I did a double-take. Granted, there was no real issue in them doing this. They were fully grown, and were extremely well-renowned for their skills in battle. Even so, I grumbled a little.

"Really, you two, you could change your game plan a little," I said, moving my head between the two as I evenly distributed withering looks to them. "Making me sentimental about your Elfling days before asking to march off to what is undoubtedly going to be a bloodbath is hardly the best way to go about this sort of thing."

"We thought we might have to rely on our preciousness to sway you," Elladan replied thoughtfully. "When you put it that way, though, it really was a rather risky move, wasn't it?"

"Quite," I answered briefly, watching them both suspiciously.

"Did it work, though?" Elrohir pressed hopefully.

"Do you even have anyone under your command who is willing to fight?" I skirted around the question, not keen on encouraging any further threats to the longevity of Elrond's children.

"We haven't asked, but we certainly can." Elrohir answered after a moment.

"But you didn't answer the question before that," Elladan prodded, watching me reproachfully. "Are you trying to pretend we didn't ask it?"

My eyes darted between the two as I cursed under my breath in resignation.

"Bloody perceptive children, seeing through my schemes," I muttered. "Look, I don't want to give you permission to put yourselves in harm's way at the moment. You're grown adults and you can do what you please, but does your father know you intend to do this?"

Now it was their turn to look away.

"No," Elladan said slowly.

"Not yet, anyway," Elrohir added.

"I'm going to level with you two," I said as I put my arms around their shoulders. "This whole thing with Arwen has really shaken him up, and he isn't really in a position to cope with much more stress at the moment."

"We are less than pleased about the situation as well," Elladan rumbled at me. Elrohir grunted in agreement and shook his head angrily.

"He is meant to be a king! He will have prospective suitors out the door soon enough! Why on earth did he have to take our sister?"

"To be honest with you two, I'm less than thrilled about the idea, myself," I admitted. "But it does pay to keep in mind that this was no act of trickery on Aragorn's part. Arwen made a choice here, too."

"She does not know what awaits her," Elladan rumbled. "Not truly."

"Nobody can know what that's like until they actually have to live it. Even Aragorn won't know how mortality will taste until the moment he has to die. Thanks to the story of Beren and Lúthien, I suppose Arwen has a small idea of what to expect, but no, you're right. She doesn't truly know."

I sighed. "But such is the misery of the calculated risk, my loves. She's thought this through and decided that whatever happiness she will find with Aragorn is worth eventually dying for." I hated saying it out loud. It crushed me. The twins winced at it as well, and I clutched them a little tighter to me.

"It's awful, isn't it?" Elrohir whispered.

"It is," I replied, "and that is precisely why I'm asking you to think very carefully before you sign up for any daring things. Think it through before you even bring it up with your father. There is a point where needs must, but be sure your calculated risk will pay off first."

They sat in silence for a while, their cake still not wholly eaten.

"Are you both all right?" I asked gently.

"As well as possible, I suppose," Elladan answered, his brother nodding.

"Do you need to talk for a while?"

They both shook their heads and got up. "I think we should sit and think for a little while," Elladan announced.

"You know where to find me if you need anything, all right?"

With solemn, synchronised nods and gentle waves, they left, taking the rest of my cake with them.

My mood managed to be both improved and worsened all at once after that. On one hand, I'd socialised with my nephews, which was always a joy. On the other, though, the buggers had stolen my cake and depressed me about Arwen.

Cursing under my breath, I decided that perhaps there had never been a better time to lock myself away in a tiny room and pretend nothing existed outside of it. My mind made up, I marched off to Elrond's study to begin living a lie.

"Ah, Rhodri," Elrond greeted me as I entered. "Has anything exciting happened?"

"No, no, the usual humdrum sort of affair, I'm afraid," I said as I took a seat beside Glorfindel and rested on his shoulder. "Saw a client and then paused with some cake, which attracted your eldest two like moths to a flame."

"Ah, yes," he said sympathetically. "Celebrían and I always found that the best way to attract their attention was to sit down and look comfortable, ideally nursing something delicious."

"Some things never change, it would seem," I laughed before glancing between the three of them. "And what of you devils, then?"

"Well, I compiled the lists we both made of whoever in our units are willing to fight," Glorfindel said, holding up a piece of paper with columns of names on it. He passed it to me and I perused it.

"Hmm, quite a few making for Valinor, but combined, it looks like we have enough for a unit of about a hundred and fifty," I said as I made a rough guesstimate of the number of names.

"More or less, yes," Glorfindel confirmed.

"So now all there is to do is stock up and wait for the right time to set out," I breathed.

"How do you intend to reach Gondor at this time of the year, you two?" Elrond asked, looking like he knew he'd hate the answer.

"Well, I personally think our chances of reaching the place unscathed look better if we take the Gap of Rohan than if we try to take the Pass of Caradhras," I answered. Glorfindel nodded.

"And what of the extensive industry and vast armies of Curumo you spoke of?" Elrond raised an eyebrow.

"We'll keep a fair distance from them, but our odds are still better sneaking past Isengard than taking an angry mountain in blizzard season," I shrugged. "The troops already know we are likely to take that route, and they have been extensively informed about who lives close by." I stood up and stepped onto the carpet in the middle of the room, where I walked on the perimeter of it like it was a tightrope. "Besides, Curumo knows exactly what I intend to do with him if I'm ever in his vicinity again."

Glorfindel snorted loudly, presumably as he recalled where I said I would insert Curumo's staff after breaking it.

"We could set out in a month, perhaps," Glorfindel proposed as he got up and started walking behind me on the edge of the carpet.

"Have you worked out all the supplies you intend to take?" Erestor asked.

"Not completely," Glorfindel replied. "We need to properly divide the resources. If Rohan is able to participate in war, they may be in need of supplies as well, so the exact numbers are to be negotiated.

"I have my doubts about this somehow," Erestor murmured as he rose to his feet now and hopped behind Glorfindel, forming the beginnings of a carpet-walking conga line.

"Oh?" I asked.

"You didn't really finish your most recent visit to Gondor on a high note," Erestor replied carefully.

"That is a monumental understatement," Elrond pointed out, one knee crossed over another as he watched this procession of nitwits tread on the edges of his rug.

"I take your point," I said with a nod. "It certainly wasn't one of our finer exits."

"Your departure from Rohan was somewhat better, but also lacking," Elrond added, crossing his legs tightly and drumming his fingers on the armrest now as he kept observing us.

"Ah, not to worry there," Glorfindel reassured Elrond with an easy smile. "Prince Theódred took excellent care of us in that regard. And assuming Olórin did what he said he would and inspected King Theóden further, I would say things can only improve from here in the Kingdom of Rohan."

Elrond's brows knitted as his fingers thrummed faster.

"Besides which, if they're as outnumbered as I think they are, I'm almost certain they'll appreciate all the assistance they can get. This is not really a prudent time to look a gift-horse in the mouth," I supplemented.

I glanced at Elrond, who was still watching us closely, and then turned to look at Glorfindel, who nodded. Nodding back, I stepped off the carpet and went over to Elrond. Glorfindel and Erestor stood still.

Without a word, I gently clamped my hands on Elrond's shoulders, lifted him out of his seat, and walked him through the air over to the carpet.

"I- Rhodri, what in heaven's name are you-" he started to protest.

"Oh, please, you looked like you were about to burst a blood vessel trying to stop yourself joining in," I said as I placed him on the edge of the carpet in front of me. I stepped back in front of Glorfindel, and now we had a stationary four-person cavalcade starting with Elrond and ending with Erestor.

Glorfindel reached past me and pat Elrond's shoulder. "When you're ready, meldir," he invited genially.

Elrond gave a defeated sigh and carefully began to walk around.

"I hope you're right, you two," he mumbled worriedly.

"So do I," Glorfindel and I answered in nervous unison as the three of us started stepping forward.


	70. Ethical dilemma

**Author's note: ** Hello cool cats! I just realised I hadn't really written anything here for a while, so hey there! Hope things are ticking over nicely for you good folks. You're important and deserve to be happy! Drink ya water and eat ya veg where possible! :D

guest: It depends. Intellectualisation on its own is considered a 'defence mechanism' (how the brain deals with unpleasant situations) whereby in times of stress, you completely detach yourself and observe everything- feelings, events, etc.- as facts. _e.g.: The dog is dead. I am sad. I feel helpless about this._ On its own, it's a terrible way to go through life, because if you don't let yourself feel your feelings, it'll come back and bite you later. As a tool in your arsenal though, it's great as a means to get a small break from feelings and to be able to sort them out so you don't get mired in them. For that reason alone, I'd argue it's vital. Of course, I'm not a clinical psychologist and none of this stuff is advice, so yeah.

§

_"So what did Boromir have to say for himself, then?"_ I asked my wizard buddy after breakfast the next morning. We were strolling around the garden beds, drinking in what little sunshine was available in the middle of winter.

_"Very little,"_ Olórin said grimly as he scooped up some fresh snow off a bench and rubbed his face with it._ "I do not believe he has been dissuaded by anything I have said enough that he would bow out."_

I cursed under my breath. _"Well, what the hell are we supposed to do?"_

_"That depends on what you think is the limit of where we can intervene."_

_"I wish I knew what that limit was. I have absolutely no idea, myself. I prefer to err on the side of caution and step in where necessary."_

_"Yes, I have seen that,"_ Olórin said with a small smile._ "Aragorn confided in me that he is rather aware of his family's displeasure with his marriage choices."_

I scowled._ "So we should be,"_ I grumbled. _"Who in their right mind would let a union like that go ahead?"_

_"I would,"_ Olórin shrugged.

I goggled at him. _"Y-you would?"_

_"Certainly. They are aware of what marriage will eventually entail for the both of them."_

_"Not properly, though!"_ I protested angrily.

_"Would you have married Glorfindel if you knew that he was to go into battles that could kill him?"_ Olórin asked calmly.

_"Well, I mean, I suppose I did that anyway,"_ I frowned a little. _"But that is totally different!"_

_"Is it? If he dies, you die, too. That is quite a gamble to take."_

_"Olórin, Aragorn's chances of dying are at a hundred percent! Glorfindel's were never that high."_

_"It still could have happened, and yet you bound yourself to him anyway. Why did you do it?"_

I blushed a little._ "Well, ah, the usual reasons, really. Undying affection, devotion, et cetera…"_

_"And what makes the love between Aragorn and Arwen any less worthy of marriage?"_ he raised an eyebrow at me.

_"It's not worth dying for!"_

_"You married Glorfindel knowing he was a warrior, and he knowing that you were a Maia,"_ Olórin pointed out patiently. _"At some point, you must have factored in the possibility he would die and take you with him as a result. In short, Rhodri, you decided that he was worth dying for."_

I stopped dead and looked up at him slowly. My mouth was hanging open in shock. Olórin stood still and folded his hands in front of him, watching me solicitously.

_"The only real difference between the two situations is that Aragorn is mortal. Is his love any less legitimate than Glorfindel's?"_ he asked.

_"No,"_ I whispered. _"No, it isn't. But it's so expensive…"_

_"The cost is not any of our business, Rhodri,"_ Olórin said mildly as he put a hand on my shoulder._ "That is between Aragorn and Arwen. It was a commitment made with total transparency on both sides. We are not obliged to be pleased with their choice, or even approve of it, but we must accept it."_

I stared at my feet numbly, my head heavy and light all at once. He was absolutely right, and it was so confronting but so logically and morally true that I couldn't do anything but accept it. Not just about Aragorn and Arwen, but also about my own relationship with Glorfindel.

_"It takes a less involved person's perspective sometimes."_ He smiled at me benignly and steered me into a walk again.

_"What of Boromir, then? Where do we draw the line with him?"_ I continued, putting Aragorn and Arwen and love-related mortality out of my mind for the moment.

_"Ah, that is more complicated, isn't it?"_

_"Mm. The Ring could be- and probably is- doing much of the talking for him. But is it his right to attend anyway?"_

_"I don't know,"_ he said simply.

_"You must have some ideas."_

_"You likely do as well,"_ Olórin shrugged.

_"I doubt I would have been permitted to let him attend had this all been happening back in the U.K.," _I considered aloud._ "In fact, I am certain I would have been forbidden from it."_

_"And here?"_

_"I still practice by those same codes personally, but to what extent that power reaches here is a very different matter."_ I rubbed my chin thoughtfully.

_"Arguably much less, especially in the interest of diplomatic relations. And really, we do not know for certain whether he will succumb to the temptation of the Ring. It seems likely, but Boromir may yet surprise us."_

_"I hope he does. It would be such a welcome surprise, I must say."_

_"Mm."_

_"And what about your input?"_ I asked after a moment.

_"There is equally little that I can do, apart from keep an eye on him," _Olórin said heavily._ "For much the same reasons, too."_

_"Perhaps you should make a decision to expel any members who make an attempt to steal the Ring,"_ I suggested.

_"I may just,"_ he rumbled pensively.

We walked on in silence until we found ourselves in the corridors again.

_"I had best find Aragorn, discuss watching Boromir with him,"_ Olórin said after a moment.

I nodded. _"Good luck prying him away from Arwen."_

An amused smile spread over his face. He gave me an affectionate clap on the back and disappeared down the hallway.

Dazed from the confronting discussion I'd just had, I started to power walk down the hall in whatever direction I was facing. Motion offered the comforting lie of purpose, that there was some place I had to be right now. That I wasn't going to stop and be left alone with my thoughts.

Naturally, I wasn't watching where I was going and ended up bouncing off something warm and solid before toppling to the ground.

"Oh, Rhodri, I do apologise—" came a surprised voice from above. I looked up and saw an apologetic Boromir reach a hand down for me to take.

"No, no, my fault entirely, Boromir," I said as I grabbed his arm and he gently lifted me to my feet. "I was totally absorbed in my own thoughts and wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to anything outside my head. Sorry about that."

"My thoughts were also on other planes," he admitted. "Perhaps not higher ones, but certainly different all the same."

"Are you in a hurry to get back to said planes?" I asked, seeing the opportunity for a discussion with him. "Or can you spare a few minutes to chat?"

"Oh. Well, I-" he began, looking like he was trying to find an excuse to avoid my request before giving up. "I can spare some minutes, certainly."

"Grand. Let's get some cherry nectar from the kitchens and get started, then."

After stopping at the kitchens and grabbing a small bottle and some glasses, we shuttled back to my office and sat down.

"I have a feeling I know what you would like to discuss with me," Boromir broached as I poured out a small tumblerful of cherry nectar and passed it to him.

"I'm sure you do," I replied with a nod as I dosed up my own small glass and replaced the cork in the bottle. "In which case, let's skip over the small talk, shall we? What do you intend to do?"

"My father would be disappointed if I did not attend," Boromir said after a moment.

"Is that reason enough for you to go on the quest, knowing that his disappointment is not legitimate, and also keeping in mind how much danger you put the other Fellowship members in?" I asked seriously.

"It is a very compelling reason," he confessed. "But not the only one. I do believe I can control my desires to wield the Ring so as to not endanger the Ringbearer or any of the others."

"What do you base that belief on?"

Boromir looked surprised by that question. "Well, my willpower, I suppose."

"Your willpower appears to have failed you in previous instances, from what I've seen so far. How will you keep it under wraps on the journey? It will be so much harder to control yourself when you're in constant proximity to it."

"I… do not know," he murmured uncomfortably, picking up his cherry nectar and sipping at it.

"Boromir, there's something I didn't tell you the last session we had in here," I began heavily as I straightened myself up in my chair and watched him.

"Oh? What is that?"

I stayed silent for a moment as I wondered how on earth I was going to say this without A) sounding like a conspiracy theorist, and B) coming across as a worrywart. I rubbed my chin for a second. When the ideal sentence failed to materialise, I sighed and decided to wing it.

"I should have told you about my reservations outright, Boromir, and I'm sorry that I didn't before. I had hoped that by merely implying what I thought would befall you, you would be put off enough to drop out of the quest, but it seems that hope was misplaced."

"Tell me now, then," he invited.

Reluctantly, I met his stone-grey eyes, and in them I saw his characteristic kindness and good humour. "I am certain that if you get seized by the temptation of the Ring, you will die."

He nodded calmly. "Yes, you are not the first one to have said that to me."

"And you are not any less put off?"

"Most of my quests in this life have been fraught with peril, Rhodri. In my position, it is not fitting to shy away from a task because of the risk of death," he said in a soft but matter-of-fact voice, shaking his head a little.

"Even when it seems certain?"

"There is always hope, Rhodri," he said with a small smile.

"The Ring offers none, Boromir," I returned grimly. "All it does is put you in danger."

"I have been in danger more than once, my friend," Boromir replied, drawing his shoulders up a little. "And there have been more times where my death is certain than I care to count."

"Is there anything at all I could say or do to prevent you from going on this trip?" I asked, scrutinising his face for any hint of a microexpression that could belie his determination. But there was none. He looked back at me serenely, his features undisturbed as he shook his head again.

"There is not."

"Then let me at least give you some assistance in helping you to resist the Ring," I urged him.

"Ah, that I can accept," Boromir agreed.

The next hour was spent in a crash course where I showed Boromir the same techniques I had taught Bilbo. After an hour, he had learned some relaxation exercises and was able to visualise himself succeeding in overcoming the temptation to steal or put on the Ring.

"Now, we need one more thing…" I said as I stood up. "Sit tight. I'll be back in about ten minutes."

"Where are you going?"

"Hospital wing."

Boromir looked confused (and a tad suspicious), but assured me that he would wait in the office until I returned.

Once again, the hospital wing was empty, and the marvellous Gildin stood by a cabinet with a list, counting out the medical supplies.

"Oh, hello there, Rhodri!" she greeted me heartily. "Fancy a cup of tea and a catch-up? We didn't get to chat much when we were getting that saerlas concoction ready, and as I recall, your visit was cut awfully short for some reason." She playfully squinted and frowned as she pretended to summon the memory of that day.

I gagged a little. "I'm afraid I'll have to keep my visit short this time, Gildin. Not because of your evil ways or anything. Believe it or not, I actually need more of that foul tincture for a client who's waiting for me in my office as we speak."

"Goodness, you can't be serious," Gildin said, stifling a shocked laugh as she watched me with her ice-blue eyes, waiting for me to call off the joke.

"Oh, but I am. And not just that, but I need another kind of potion as well, if you have one available. An emetic."

"My word, meldis, whatever you're treating must be terribly serious," she breathed, half amused, half taken aback.

"I can't even begin to describe how serious it is," I answered as I shook my head in disbelief. "Life and death sort of stuff, to be quite honest with you."

The gravity was not lost on her. "Oh, dear," she said thoughtfully. "Well, I'm quite sure we have some leftover saerlas. That bunch we ground was particularly juicy…"

She opened the cabinet and started looking through the shelves until she pulled out a clear bottle filled with the familiar murky, green liquid and handed it to me.

"Here's the saerlas… now, you said you wanted an emetic, too?"

"If you've got any," I requested hopefully.

"Just mixed some up today, as a matter of fact. Bloodwort root and mistletoe berry. It's fairly potent, so be warned. Vomiting will start within a few seconds of swallowing it and last for a minute or two. You'll only need three drops at a time." She took a white tincture off the shelves and tipped a small dose into a bottle with a dropper.

"Thanks, pal," I said as she handed me the puke juice. "Much appreciated."

"Good luck with your client, Rhodri," she said with a solicitous clap on the shoulder. "I hope it helps."

"I do, too," I replied, failing to hide the tone of pessimism in my voice.

"Come visit if you want to chat. Or if you don't."

"Back at you, friendo," I said with a small smile, and with that, I bustled back to the office.

"Right," I said to Boromir as I took my seat. "These two are for the other part of the therapy. The aversion therapy, remember?"

"Mmm," he confirmed as he looked at the bottles I had placed on the desk between us.

"Now, here's how this is going to work: when you've tried all your relaxation and visualisation exercises and find it's not enough, take six drops of this one," I tapped my finger on the cork of the saerlas juice, "on your tongue. This is saerlas juice—known also as bitterweed, in case you have it in your region. The taste is absolutely foul, and in theory should help a great deal to put you off going near the Ring."

Boromir grimaced a little but nodded. "Dare I ask what is in the other bottle?" He gestured at the smaller receptacle, the white liquid inside shimmering like a pearl.

"That contains your absolute last resort," I said. "It is a potent blend of bloodwort root and mistletoe berry. Three drops of that will have you being violently sick for the next minute, effective immediately."

His eyebrows were raised to the heavens now as he looked at me. "Really, that is quite punitive, Rhodri."

"I'm trying to stop you from dying here, mate," I said with a shrug. "It has to be extremely unpleasant, because it needs to put you off the Ring. Make sure to keep up your fluids if you take any of that vomiting agent. Get the cooks to give you some sugar and salt to put in your water if you vomit more than three times in a day. Use the tincture as sparingly as you possibly can, though."

His eyes went between me and the bottles. I quickly grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote the dosage instructions and notes about hydration and electrolyte rebalancing before handing it to Boromir.

"Promise me you'll try this stuff," I urged him. "You're a good person, and we all want you to emerge from this alive."

Boromir nodded. "I will endeavour to follow your instructions to the letter, Rhodri," he assured me with a smile. I watched him for a moment as the memory of that jovial, vivacious twenty-year-old came to my mind. I had been tempted to adopt the young Boromir and his brother out of Denethor's hands and give them the happy, sheltered life Elrond had given Aragorn. It was too late for any of that now, I thought to myself mournfully as this burly, pragmatic man of forty looked back at me with his characteristic warmth and generosity of spirit.

With a mutual sigh, we wordlessly declared the session over, and Boromir left, waving gently as he went out.

I hadn't realised how much I was about to hate being alone with my thoughts until it actually happened and my conversation with Olórin about Aragorn and Arwen crept back. That uneasy feeling was there again, and I mindlessly got up and made my way down the corridors.

"You decided Glorfindel was worth dying for." The words hit me like slams from a hammer as they looped in my head. We'd always been an upbeat couple. Eternally optimistic, and glossing over the hard times with the promise of supporting each other unwaveringly. And of course, we had always made good on that promise, but I didn't suppose either Glorfindel or I had really dwelled on the cost, simply accepting it and moving on to happier thoughts.

I wasn't obliged to make any new promises. I'd already guaranteed that our marriage entailed unconditional love and care the day we'd gotten hitched. All told, there wasn't really anything to consider. And yet as I observed the risks and costs in greater detail, it felt like I was making a whole new set of vows. In life; in death; in long, horrifically painful periods of separation; in any nightmarish situation, no matter the price.

A voice from behind made me leap about a foot in the air, but it was exactly the voice I wanted to hear.

"There you are, Rhodri!" Glorfindel came up beside me, his warm smile turning into a look of surprise when I wordlessly took his arms in my hands.

"Beloved?" he asked softly, brows furrowing in concern. "What is it?"

My heart was in my throat, hammering so hard I thought my gullet would burst open. I gently led him up the stairs and into our quarters, not daring to speak until we were alone.

Closing the door behind me, I looked at him and saw him peering at me with worry. "Tell me what troubles you," he requested gently, putting a hand on my cheek.

I pressed his hand into my face with my own hand, Olórin's words echoing louder and louder in my ears until they were almost a roar. Unable to stand it, I ripped Glorfindel into an embrace and pressed him to me tightly.

"You're worth dying for," I choked into his ear.

Glorfindel moved his head away and looked at me in horror, his jewel-blue eyes wide as he searched mine.

"Rhodri, darling, what on earth-"

I held up a hand gently to silence him, took him into my head, and showed him the conversation I'd just had with Olórin.

When it was over and he was back in his own mind, Glorfindel watched me sombrely for a moment.

"That was…" he began before trailing off, shaking his head. "I understand what you mean now."

Slowly, watching carefully for any objection, I pulled him close and cupped his face in my hands.

To my relief, he slipped his arms around me and snuggled me up until our noses were almost touching.

"We have to let them go, don't we?" he breathed, eyes watering like he was being pinched.

"I think we might, yes," I murmured in a hollow voice. He shut his eyes tightly and huge tears rolled down his cheeks. The finality of it had hit at last, after over half a century of suspended disbelief.

"I'd always hoped she would… grow out of it," Glorfindel whispered as he stifled a sob.

I nodded sorrowfully.

"And Elrond…" was all he could get out between his whimpers.

"And Celebrían," I added in horror. My insides had already turned to ice as I thought of the suffering Elrond was about to go through, but another wave of frost ripped through me as my mind turned to Celebrían, who had no idea of any of this. How heartbroken she was going to be to know that the daughter she had been waiting to see for hundreds of years would never come, and even in death would never return to Valinor.

I gently picked Glorfindel up and carried him over to the couch, where I set him down and sat beside him.

"Oh, Rhodri," he said before a fresh wave of tears took him over.

"I know," I said dolefully as I stroked his hair. "It's so hard to be happy about it." I fixed my eyes on the ceiling and gave a weary sigh. "All I can bring myself to do is hope that their gamble pays off."

Glorfindel looked up, his face blotchy and wet. "What gamble?" he snuffled.

"That it's a relationship worth the price of death," I said simply.

It was a while before we were fit to leave the room to go to Elrond's study. It took some time for Glorfindel to stop crying, for a start, and after that, I wanted us to wait a short while so that Elrond wouldn't wise up to what had happened. As if he didn't have enough going on right now as it was.


	71. Too many departures

earthdragon: With regard to chapter 67, I'm afraid you'll have to take that bit up with Professor Tolkien, as that part was written in the books. :P I dunno how Elrond managed it either, or what the point even was when you consider how slow snail-mail must have been back then. Still, he wanted to give it a shot, bless him, and he did.

As for chapter 69, hahaha honestly I think Olorin's problem is everybody else in that regard. Attempts to help Frodo, Curumo gets up in his business. Tries to help the Dwarves? Oop, sorry, White Council meeting, brb. I dunno if I'll get there with actually mentioning this in the plot for my own story, but I'll put it here anyway, because I did think this one through: Olorin could see that King Theoden was being possessed by Curumo, with Wormtongue as his proxy. Unfortunately, Olorin, being second in power to Curumo at that point, knew he would not have sufficient power to expel Curumo's encroachment into Theoden's head, and so had to leave it be. That's what I figure would have happened anyway, because he seemed pretty unpopular after his first visit, and then by his next visit, he was able to waltz on up, wave his magic stick, and give Curumo the bum's rush, as it were.

§

Honestly, we might as well have put revolving doors in Imladris, people were coming and going so much. The influx of people who had come a month prior was now setting out again, depleting the population as much as it had boosted it.

Elrond had advised that the company not set out until night time had fallen, encouraging travel under cover of darkness until they had gotten a goodly distance from Imladris.

The hours leading up to that evening had been particularly quiet. Frodo and the other Hobbits, along with Olórin, had hidden themselves someplace or another with Bilbo, and we didn't see them until shortly before dinner. Aragorn, unsurprisingly, was with you-know-who in god-knows-where. Legolas, in much the same way as was his wife's wont, decided to displace his nervous energy with vigorous exercise, and barely left the archery area. Boromir, so far as we knew, was striding around contemplatively.

I didn't find out where Gimli and Glóin were until Glorfindel and I ran into them sitting outside, the snow falling around them. We had been walking around after lunch and as we went past them perching on the edge of the garden bed, their arms and legs quite bare.

Unable to stop myself, I said to them, "My goodness, you two! Aren't you cold out here in just those tunics and pants?"

"A little, certainly," Glóin admitted. "But the benefits outweigh the discomfort."

"Benefits?" I repeated in surprise. "Hmm." I pulled my sleeves up and rolled up my trouser legs and took a seat beside Glóin, Glorfindel following suit.

"I am not noticing any real benefit," Glorfindel said as he held his bare arms out. The two of us were so pasty that the Dwarves politely looked away, presumably attempting to conceal their photophobia.

"Neither am I," I observed. To the likely relief of Gimli and Glóin, we rolled our sleeves back down.

"Ah, but you see, I have an upset stomach," Glóin said, gently patting his large belly. "At my age, eating foreign food comes at a cost."

"Oh, dear," Glorfindel said with concern. "Is there anything we can supply you with to help ease the discomfort?"

"If there is, we do not know of it," Gimli replied.

"I can bring you a remedy to try that was popular in my region, if you like," I offered. "Worked a treat for stomach troubles, and doesn't require sitting out in the cold."

Glóin accepted my offer with a nod, and we agreed to meet in one of the annexes off the Hall of Fire, where comfortable armchairs abounded and a crackling fire was guaranteed. Heading to the kitchens, I hunted up some dried peppermint leaves (good luck finding the fresh stuff at this time of the year) and brewed a pot of peppermint tea. Glorfindel took the cups and I carried the pot into the room where Gimli and Glóin were waiting for us.

"Have a try of this," I said as I poured Glóin a cup and Glorfindel passed it to him.

Glóin smelled at the tea gingerly, and with a shrug, took a sip.

"It is not as bitter as I had expected it to be," he murmured at us.

"No, it comes closer to sweet than anything else, but I've always found it rather nondescript otherwise," I replied, pouring a cup for Gimli now. "Still, I suppose if your stomach is in mutiny, the last thing you want is to excite it."

"Vaguely refreshing, though," Gimli said after having a small draught and smacking his lips a little.

It was a curious thing watching the two of them handle the teacups. I'd purposely chosen bigger ones so that it didn't feel so awkward for them, but their hands were so huge and broad that they couldn't even fit a single finger in the handles. They pinched the handle between two bratwurst-sized fingers and looked like they were hoping not to break them as they picked them up like that.

"How's your stomach doing now?" I asked Glóin as he drained the last of his tea.

"Better, actually," he said in mild surprise, and accepted another cup happily.

"I'll be sure to get some to you for when you make the home journey," I said. "One spoonful of leaves makes a whole pot, so it'll keep you for a good while, I imagine."

I was pleased to have gotten around to speaking with Gimli and Glóin. I knew that things were quite tense between the Elves and the Dwarves, even in Imladris, where Elrond was very strict about discrimination against the children of Aulë. I had been rather worried that they wouldn't want much to do with anyone, but the next few hours were spent happily chatting over several pots of tea, and I was kicking myself for having not reached out to them sooner. They were terrific company, and enjoyed making bawdy jokes in a way I'd never dared to try in Imladris, and I realised how much I had missed indulging my earthy side.

As always in such troubled times, the conversation eventually turned to Mordor and warfare, and we talked about what our plans were in the months to come. Glóin's brow wrinkled as he worriedly told us of the wars his people were about to be plunged into with the Men of Dale and Lake Town up against the Easterlings of Rhûn. Heavy losses were anticipated, and even Elrond's counsel couldn't offer any real hope for them, wise though it was.

"Glorfindel and I will be taking a regiment down to Gondor. Things aren't looking too brisk down there, either," I said with a lopsided frown.

"Are the numbers not in your favour?" Gimli asked.

"Not at all," Glorfindel replied gloomily. "At least a hundred thousand enemies, I would guess, and they bring with them Mûmakil."

Gimli and Glóin exchanged a worried glance. "Watch yourselves," Gimli said. "We saw them on one of our journeys southward, and they are a most bloodthirsty type of beast. The enemy would build small battle towers on their backs and pick people off with arrows. A fearsome weapon to have in the arsenal."

"Mmm," I agreed. "Though we do have something of a plan. I just wonder how to implement it."

Gimli and Glóin both leaned forward in their seats. They were keen on battle talk, and it occurred to me that these might be just the people to discuss it with.

"You're the masters of metal and ironworks. I wonder, could I possibly get some wisdom from the two of you?"

They both happily agreed, and I explained the situation to them.

"I move quite quickly, and am much stronger than I look. Strong enough to trip a Mumak. What I want to do is get a long pole or stick and knock it against the legs of the Mûmakil and trip them. But I know nothing about metalworks and fear that if I made a pole of metal, it would bend on contact against these huge beasts. Have you got any ideas on how to reinforce it a little?"

They smiled and asked for a piece of paper as they made diagrams and took Glorfindel and me through basic engineering for the next hour.

"So a square design, you think?" I murmured as I pored over the largest picture Glóin had drawn: a solid rectangular prism with arrows on where the pressure points existed. These guys really knew their physics.

"If you can carry it, it would be far stronger than the round tubes you had planned," Gimli said with a nod.

"Better if you can make two and stack them atop each other so that the Mûmakil are hit with the shorter end, or with a triangular tip to concentrate the impact point," advised Glóin.

"Ingenious," breathed Glorfindel, who had equally as little exposure to this sort of thing as I did. Weaponsmithing and construction were very specialised professions among the Elves, but for the Dwarves, who delighted in crafting their own beautiful things, it was an expected skill for all members of society.

"Thank you very much for taking so much time to show us this," I said gratefully. "I can't tell you how much this is going to help.

The two of them smiled, pleased with their efforts. "A favour for a favour," Glóin smiled.

At that moment, the dinner bell rang.

"Will you be able to eat something, do you think, Glóin?" I asked politely.

Glóin nodded. "My stomach is quite settled now, thank you, Rhodri," he said.

Slowly, we got up and wandered off to the dining room for one last meal together.

Though the table was at capacity with food and diners, there was almost no noise aside from the soft clinking of cutlery against plates and glasses clunking as they were put down on the table. It was almost like listening to a set of ceramic wind chimes in a gentle breeze, and I found it distinctly eerie. No talking, no laughing. Just reluctant ingestion.

After dinner, we congregated in the courtyard to farewell the Fellowship, night having fallen and the timing perfect for the start of their journey. Everyone was flitting from person to person, taking their last chance to speak with the company before they set out.

After receiving friendly hugs from the Hobbits and wishing them luck, I walked over to Olórin.

"_Be careful out there, all right?"_ I murmured to him, looking hard into his rheumy blue eyes.

"_You know I shall. Exercise some caution on the battlefield yourself, if you please," _he replied with a small and an arched eyebrow.

Legolas seemed in good spirits but gulped as I clapped him on the shoulder.

"Look after them for me, won't you?" he whispered to me worriedly. His concerns about Bregedúr and Daereth seemed never to be far from his thoughts.

"I won't have to, Legolas, but if it makes you feel better to hear it, I certainly will," I assured him with a knowing look. He sighed and nodded before putting a hand back on my shoulder and giving it a jovial thump.

I stepped over to Gimli, who was standing tall (for a Dwarf), holding his axe confidently. We exchanged the hackneyed but genuine niceties that new friends do ("you must stop by next time you're in the area," "do keep in touch,"), and Gimli pressed something into my hands: two pewter beads.

"One for you, and one for your husband, to be put in your hair," he explained. "It is bad luck to fight with iron without at least one."

"My goodness, how generous of you," I murmured. "We'll keep them on always."

"That's the spirit," he said with a wink. "You never know when a foe will turn up."

"And you know we'll keep an eye on your father for you, of course."

"I knew you would," Gimli smiled.

I had no idea what to say to Boromir. I stood in front of him and I felt a thrill of secondhand fear and sadness all at once.

"Have you got everything you need?" I finally asked after a rather pregnant pause. He knew I meant the saerlas and mistletoe concoctions.

"I have," he assured me. "And some sugar and salt, as directed."

"Please don't do this." The words were out before I could stop them.

Boromir gave me a gentle smile. "You know I will," he said simply.

I nodded. Of course I knew. I sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, burning with regret that Glorfindel and I hadn't grabbed him and his brother when we made our jailbreak.

He inclined his head at me, and that was the end of that.

And there was Aragorn at the end of the line. Everybody's darling, grave and virtuous as ever as he watched me cautiously, perhaps afraid I would tell him off for winning Arwen's heart. A small look of relief passed over his face as I shook my head gently at him.

"I'm so… _proud_ of you, sprout," I whispered as I dragged him into a bear hug and planted a huge kiss on his head.

I heard a chuckle from him as he embraced me back.

"Now, you'll be very careful, won't you?" I said as I released him and put my hands on my hips.

"Who am I to disobey my aunt?" he asked with a wry smile. "I still have an obligation to teach you to play checkers properly."

I swatted his shoulder playfully. "The cheek of you," I scolded him with a laugh. I looked back up at him. "You have to be back to take care of Arwen, anyway."

His impish expression softened. I nodded at him. It was as much of a blessing as I could possibly give him, but thankfully, it seemed to be enough for Aragorn as he nodded and quickly pulled me into one last hug.

"Behave yourself out there for once, you terror," I whispered before we parted with a laugh and a wave.

After a short while, everyone else had finished their litany of last messages, and with that, the Fellowship was off.

The sudden quietness that descended over Imladris following their departure left my ears ringing. Luckily, there was plenty to do. The world's longest rectangular plus triangular prismatic pole had to be made. The forge, predictably, was extremely busy, but we luckily had plenty (_plenty)_ of metal at our disposal, and that material could be repurposed later on.

Not only that, but Glorfindel and I had to get our unit together for regular meetings as we started to prepare for the journey south. It felt so strange to be out and about all of a sudden, not hidden away in Elrond's study, drowning in paperwork. Not that we saw nothing of Elrond. He remained less-than-keen to be left on his own, and knowing that our own departure date drew ever nearer, was especially clingy, following us just about everywhere and asking in his indirect way for company right up until bedtime. Glorfindel and I had let him do it without issue, but the weeks stretched on, and January was hot on February's heels, and we knew we would have to talk to him about it.

A couple of days before we were due to set out, Glorfindel and I sat with Elrond on the balcony in the evening with a glass of white wine (chilled by courtesy of the freezing ambient temperature).

"So what are you going to get up to while we're out tipping over giant pachyderms, old fruit?" I asked Elrond casually as I tried and failed to blow smoke rings in the icy air.

Elrond ummed quietly to himself. "It will be very quiet here," he murmured offhandedly, not quite answering my question.

"Mm," I agreed. "Precisely why I was asking. I don't imagine you will have too much issue up here, so there won't be too much to do."

He nodded, still not replying fully as he looked out over the horizon.

"This would be an excellent time to enjoy some time with Arwen, meldir," Glorfindel suggested.

Now he didn't even acknowledge what we had said. He kept his eyes on the distance.

"That's true," I backed Glorfindel up. "It's been a long time since you've had the chance to get some father-daughter time without monkeys like us around to knacker the proceedings." I gestured at Glorfindel and me, and Glorfindel nodded with an amused smile.

Elrond raised his eyebrows once to indicate he had heard us, but communicated nothing further.

"What is it, Elrond?" Glorfindel asked gently, stretching out an arm to put around Elrond's shoulders.

"Nothing, I suppose," he sighed as he rested his chin on one hand. "I will be quite busy with a myriad of administrative tasks, I don't doubt, so be assured I won't be in too much strife for lack of entertainment from you two."

"You just said you weren't going to be busy in that regard, Elrond," I pointed out.

"Mmm," he replied absent-mindedly, pretending to be absorbed in the bare branches of a tree in the distance.

"You can't pretend to watch birds so you can get out of replying to us, meldir," Glorfindel said with a small smile.

"Oh?"

"It's mid-winter, Elrond. They've all migrated."

"Oh."

"I think Arwen's been hanging out for an opportunity like this, to tell you the truth, pal," I encouraged him carefully.

"Hmm."

Glorfindel and I looked at each other.

"_Do we push a little?"_ I asked him nervously.

Glorfindel bit his lip. "_If Celebrían were here, I'd have left it be, but since she is not…"_

I raised my eyebrows slightly in acknowledgement, took a deep breath, and spoke up.

"Have you decided on whether or not to drug her and ship her off to Valinor, then?" I asked in a contrived casual tone. Glorfindel's eyes almost popped out of his head, but he was sensible enough to stay quiet.

"I am certain you are aware I cannot, Rhodri."

"In which case, your way forward in this relatively quiet period is clear."

"What could I even do, though?" Elrond asked with a groan, finally cracking a little. "Knowing what I do makes it impossible to think of anything to do with her that doesn't evoke horrible sadness."

"Do you hate the activities you used to do with her?" Glorfindel pressed.

Elrond looked at us, a little taken aback by the question. "No, not at all," he mumbled. "Arwen and I have many shared hobbies. You both know that."

"I think you might need to look at this from a retrospective point of view to see the real value of it, meldir," Glorfindel replied. "This is time that you will look back on and cherish, even if there is some pain while doing it."

"And I can guarantee that it will hurt less than it will if you don't seize the opportunity now and are forced to look back on squandered time with her," I added gently.

Elrond's face contorted into a look of pain. I quickly stood up. "Back in a moment."

I shot inside and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper before bustling out and sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of Glorfindel and Elrond. At the top of the paper, I wrote _Ada-Arwen Plans_.

"Right. We're making a list of the fun things you're going to do while we're away," I informed them both in a firm tone as I started to trawl my mental database for Elrond and Arwen's shared loves.

"Discover a new constellation," suggested Glorfindel.

"That's a good one!" I encouraged, writing it down. "How about composing a song? You're both terrific at that." I scribbled it onto the list.

Elrond's look of consternation slowly started to melt, and as he stared off into the distance, he murmured, "We can revisit our favourite books in the library."

"Ah, that sounds gorgeous," I said enthusiastically. "You bookworms will have your work cut out for you there."

The next half hour was spent compiling a list that ended up going over both sides of the paper, and equally as rewarding was seeing Elrond get injected with a little joy at the prospect of some kind of return to normalcy.

"You two will hardly have a moment to sit down with all this to do," I half-joked as I stood up and passed the list to Elrond.

"If all goes to plan, yes," he said heavily, the fleeting happiness dashed again as his thoughts turned to sadder things.

Glorfindel and I assumed our Comfort Elrond positions, Glorfindel taking Elrond's hands in his own and me treating the poor sod's head as a headrest.

"You won't regret making the most of it, El," I said, my head awkwardly flapping while I spoke as my jaw, usually moving when I spoke, was kept in situ by Elrond's head.

"I know," he said softly.

§

On the day of our departure, we sat in the hall, munching away on breakfast. I ate much more than usual, which seemed a silly thing to do given my lack of need for fuel, but it was a force of habit at play, as I knew I would be very physically active. The tripper-upper (the apt but ineloquent moniker I had given my metal pole) was a colossal thing that was going to be a huge drain on horses to cart around, so I knew I would have to completely blow my cover and carry it myself. At this point, though, who even cared? The enemy knew. The Fellowship was aware. If the rest of society found out now, all it meant was some staring and that I risked getting a line of people out the door asking me to shift heavy things for them. Stranger things had happened.

As I bit into my third apple, eagerly anticipating the adventure that awaited, a flash of darkness came over me, as though I had just blacked out for a second. I frowned. This didn't feel like a normal fainting episode. I'd passed out once before from the heat, and I remembered feeling light-headed and getting covered in sweat. Nothing like that had happened here. I felt fine.

As I went to shrug it off and take another bite of my apple, it happened again, only I could hear the wind rushing past my ears, and it felt like I was falling through the air. The darkness was interrupted by a flash of fire, and a familiar arm passed in front of my eyes, aged and cloaked in a grey, frayed raiment that ripped in the wind.

I tried to look around frantically to see what was going on, but as I saw another flash of fire and heard a deafening roar, everything disappeared and my breakfast came back into view.

My hands started to shake so violently that my apple fell and landed on the plate with a clatter.

"Really, meldis, now isn't the time to be throwing food away-" Elrond began wryly, but his joking look evaporated as he caught sight of what must have been a rather reeling me.

Glorfindel hurriedly put an arm around me and took both of my wrists in an attempt to hold me steady. I didn't realise it until then, but I had started to pant quite hard.

"Quickly, we'll take her outside into the cool air," a rather alarmed Elrond said to Glorfindel, who nodded, and they guided me out of the hall and onto one of the balconies.

"Are you all right, Rhodri?" Glorfindel asked urgently. "What is it?"

"I… I think Olórin is about to die," I whispered, taking them into my head and showing them what I'd just witnessed.

Elrond and Glorfindel froze, totally aghast, when they returned to their own heads.

"A Balrog," Glorfindel gasped in horror.

"Is that what that was?" I asked shakily.

"I would know that roar anywhere," he breathed, nodding his head. Both Elrond and Glorfindel's eyes filled with tears now, and I gently led them to a quiet room where we could sit and catch our breath in private.

It seemed as though people's faces were rarely dry these days. There was always something for us to cry about. Well, not me so much. My eyes had leaked a few times, but I had never properly cried in Middle-Earth. Not that I hadn't wanted to, but I had long indulged the irrational belief that as a Maia, I held substantially more power than others and was obliged to hold it together for them, to provide reassurance somehow. For that I had become known now, and it was too late to back out. As a therapist, I knew that was a terribly unhealthy practice, but psychologists are silly fools who don't always follow their own advice.

And so it was that the irresponsible Rhodri sat with a distraught Glorfindel and Elrond who, very sensibly, grieved without reservation, making all the noise and tears they felt they needed to rebalance themselves.

"Should we wait until tomorrow to set out, maybe?" I checked in concern, brushing an errant strand off Glorfindel's face.

He shook his head. "No, no, we can depart today. A distraction may be just the thing now. There is nothing more we can do for Olórin now," he added sadly. "And we do not know where the Fellowship is, so we can be of no more help to them now."

"True enough," Elrond acknowledged, hanging his head miserably.

After another hour, we had dried out and said everything we could bring ourselves to say about the situation. Collecting the last of our belongings, we went out into the courtyard along with the rest of our unit.

"Now you two _will _be careful, won't you?" Elrond began in his usual hand-wringing spiel.

"Yes, Naneth, Glorfindel and I will be so careful that the only conflict we'll engage in with the enemy is writing a sternly-worded letter," I assured him, sarcasm haemorrhaging out of every sentence.

Elrond rolled his eyes. "Why do I even bother asking at this point?"

"My guess is you like standing there with your hands on your hips and telling the two of us not to get into any damn fool happenings when you're not there to tell us off," I replied as Glorfindel and I beamed at him and pulled him into an embrace.

"Good gracious- in front of everyone-" Elrond spluttered in embarrassment as the eyes of some hundred and fifty Elves all turned to watch him getting lifted off his feet by his two foolish advisors.

"You'll have to get your daily dose of silliness from Erestor until we get back," Glorfindel said with a grin as we set Elrond down again.

"You're good for it, aren't you, Erestor?" I said to him.

Erestor gave us a wicked grin and raised his eyebrows. "You can count on it," he said as he wrapped his arms around us.

One more frantic inspection from Elrond later and we were on the road out of Imladris, ready for adventure.


	72. The growing ubiquity of wizards

**Author's note: ** TW: Suicide is discussed in this chapter. There's plenty of death in here, too, as you can imagine. Please be gentle with yourself, do what you can and don't be hard on yourself when you reach your limit, whatever it is you're doing. Drink ya water, rest as needed, and know that you're important. Always reach out to a professional if you have thoughts of harming yourself or others and know that you deserve to live well!

I had to quickly make an edit shortly after posting this, sorry, as I accidentally mixed up part of the plotline. My bad! All fixed now.

Also, the song lyrics here aren't mine. No way could I come up with something like that haha. They're lyrics from an ooold hymn (1600s) called _Versa est in luctum_, by one Alonso Lobo (originally in Latin, which sounds even better). If you like choir music, I can recommend listening to the version sung by Tenebrae. I can't link the YouTube thing here, but it's on there. Sooo lovely!

**earthdragon:** Sorry, I forgot to answer the other part of your question. The honey cake I was thinking of is quite an old recipe- Medieval times sort of old, though I understand the concept of a honey cake has been around since prehistoric times. I guess honey would have been used in times before people had made machinery to extract the sweetness from sugar beets and sugar cane that we tend to favour today. I'm told honey cake is very sweet. I hadn't heard of parkin before you mentioned it, so I looked it up and it seems that it's similar but made with golden syrup, plus molasses and brown sugar. I can only imagine how sweet that must be, but I must say, parkin sounds much more appetising to me than medieval honey cake. I've always found honey to be a very cloying sort of flavour that sticks in the nose, so to have it in such a large dose as in a cake would be too much for me. Parkin, however, I'm confident I could smash quite easily. Seems like a cake form of ANZAC biscuits, for which I nurse a very soft spot. Have you tried them? Are they anything alike?

§

As I had predicted, my carrying around that tripper-upper made me stand out like a dog's balls. It's a shame the Elves didn't believe in money, because if I'd gotten a unit of currency for every time someone asked me whether I was having trouble carrying that thing, I'd have made enough in a day to buy out the mithril industry.

"That looks heavy, Rhodri," one of the captains said to me, seizing his chance to be the 84th person in the battalion to make comments about my pole.

"Don't be fooled," I replied casually. "It's actually made of styrofoam. Lighter than air. More cumbersome than anything else."

"What is styrofoam?"

"Sorry, love, can't tell you. Trade secret."

"Goodness, it must be quite a remarkable material."

"Wait 'til you see it in action, my pointy-eared friend."

One definite bonus about my tripper-upper was that its weight made it extremely hard to nick. It must have been at least 35 tons, and I couldn't see any hopeful thieves being able to haul it off in the dead of night unnoticed.

A negative, however, was that I had to be extremely careful about how I moved with it in my arms. If someone had startled me and I turned around, I could have easily taken out half the horses and riders in the process. The unit was under strict instructions to direct all serious queries to Glorfindel after one nerve-wracking near miss at the start of the journey.

The days melted into weeks, and Olórin's death hung heavily on Glorfindel's and my minds all the while. Sunlight hours were spent worrying about the Fellowship, wondering where they could be and what had become of them without Olórin there to guide them. When night fell, though, the air was filled with sorrow as the other Elves would penetrate the silence with rounds of soft, mournful singing.

I hadn't realised that Olórin- or Mithrandir, as these folks called him- had been such a popular figure. Perhaps he hadn't been hiding out in his room keeping up the little old man facade as much as I had thought. Maybe he was really getting out there and spreading the love. It certainly seemed that way, because almost everyone in our unit was upset to learn about his death.

It had been a long time since I'd heard the Elven funeral music. Gilraen was the last time, and the time before that had been when we buried Gil-Galad. I almost wished they'd stop singing because it got Glorfindel so teary, and their ethereal, unearthly voices left me so unsettled that I'd start to feel queasy.

On top of that, my mind kept going round in circles as I thought of Olórin's and my conversation in which he told me he had foreseen his death. Could I have done anything differently? Should I have told _him _to stay home? My head teemed with these sorts of questions, and the fact that he had disclosed this all in my professional capacity meant that I had to keep it all under my hat. I couldn't even get a hint of insight from anyone else without breaking confidentiality, which was extremely frustrating as it meant I had nobody to help me deal with these feelings and make sense of them.

The combination of all these things had me almost constantly riled up, and I increasingly caught myself hankering after a punching bag to take my intense agitation out on. It reached a point where I considered asking Glorfindel to lead the unit the long way around Isengard while I went straight there and gave Curumo an absolute thrashing.

Naturally, though, one could not simply abandon post to knock the sheet out of someone, so on we trudged.

And on.

And on

And _on._

Until early one morning, I caught sight of something in the distance that had me intrigued.

"Do you see that?" I asked Glorfindel as I pointed ahead and slightly to the right.

"Mmm… it looks like a rather large battalion, if I'm not mistaken," he said as he squinted hard and craned his neck out, looking like a cynical pigeon.

"Very large…" I said worriedly. "I'll zip ahead and see if I can make out whose it is." I set my tripper-upper down and hared off, staying close to the mountain range whose base we were walking along. When I drew close enough, I could see that almost the entire population was blonde, and they didn't appear to be heavily armed, if at all. Hopeful that they were residents of Rohan, I crept along a little more until I caught sight of a very familiar face at the front of the crowd. Heartened and confused by this, I scarpered back to Glorfindel and the unit.

"What did you see?" he asked.

"It's a bunch of Rohirrim civilians, actually," I said. "They're being led by Théoden's adoptive daughter Éowyn, it would seem."

"Oh! Hm. I wonder what they're doing travelling in such a large group when they're unarmed like this," Glorfindel pondered aloud. "Especially when they're so close to Isengard. This won't be good news, I don't think."

"Not at all, I imagine," I replied pessimistically. I ran back behind the troops to get my tripper-upper and scuttled back with it to the front with Glorfindel again.

"I hope we aren't too late to provide aid to Gondor," Glorfindel murmured worriedly.

"If Rohan has to evacuate, though, it's not looking especially promising…"

We kept marching and came within Éowyn's view just before lunch time. Glorfindel and I ran ahead, waving in the hopes of reassuring them that we were allies.

When we moved into earshot, I waved and shouted out to her.

"_Éowyn! Éowyn, remember us? Rhodri and Glorfindel from Rivendell!"_

Thankfully, this rang a bell for Éowyn, who waved back and ran ahead to meet us in the middle. Her face had a curious mixture of relief and deep worry etched into it which became more apparent the closer she got.

"Rhodri, Glorfindel," she greeted us warmly. "I'm surprised to run into you here!"

"Likewise, you can be sure," I said with a laugh. "We were making for Edoras to see if you needed any supplies before we went further down to Gondor."

"Where are you all going?" Glorfindel asked curiously as he cast his eye over the large populace who slowly started to catch up to their leader.

"We make for Helm's Deep," Éowyn answered. "Saruman's forces are in full swing with their attacks, and our population is too small and widely dispersed to put up a decent fight against their army. My uncle ordered for all the women, children, and elderly to be evacuated to the Hornburg, which should safely garrison them away from the hostilities that are about to break out." She gestured at the mountain range, and when we looked where she was pointing, we could see the faint outline of a city carved into the side of one of the mountains.

"Goodness, that's an impressive structure," Glorfindel breathed.

"How is your uncle anyway, Éowyn?" I asked her.

"Much improved," she said with a broad smile. "Ever since Gandalf arrived and drove Saruman out of his head, my uncle is as he was before any of this happened. And, as an extra blessing, the first thing my uncle did when he regained his mind was to cast Wormtongue out!"

I pumped a fist in the air. "Hah!" I shouted triumphantly. "Good riddance to bad rubbish!"

"Indeed," Éowyn agreed happily. She glanced over my shoulder at the rest of our unit, who had caught up to us and awaited further instruction.

"When you said you were offering supplies, did that offer also come in the form of military support?" Éowyn enquired hopefully.

"Whatever you need, if we've got it, it's on offer," I said with a smile. "Do you have much in the way of supplies at the Hornburg? I imagine our troops would be glad to part with some of the burden if your people could take it with them."

"We have very little there at the moment. Our people have fled with whatever they could carry, but many have taken carts, so we can easily take more if need be."

"Excellent, in which case, we'll drop some of our supplies off to you here now, and if you can tell us where your uncle is, we'll go and announce ourselves and our services. How's that sound?"

"He remains in Edoras at present. I imagine he will be joining us fairly soon in Helm's Deep," she said, nodding gratefully. "Thank you, both of you, for any help you can offer."

"Our pleasure," Glorfindel said with a smile. "Perhaps we should send our troops to assist in the setup at Helm's Deep, then, and we can go on to meet your uncle ourselves."

"Good plan," I agreed. "Let's head out now, then."

"Edoras is about half a day's ride from here," Éowyn cautioned. You might be better off staying with us so that you do not have to make your journey in the night."

"Oh, don't worry about that," I said with a laugh. "We're pretty speedy. We'll probably meet you here tomorrow."

With that, Glorfindel and I went back to our company and laid out the plan to the captains, instructing them to escort the people the rest of the way to Helm's Deep and offering their assistance where they may in terms of defence. They were to report to Éowyn as needed.

"Hope you don't mind, Éowyn," I said to her as we walked back over, "but we've left our soldiers under your command. They'll come to you for instructions."

Éowyn goggled at us. "Command… over an Elven army?" she squeaked in shock.

"That's right. I know you'll do a terrific job. They speak Sindarin and Westron, so don't worry about translation issues. Have fun! See you tomorrow!"

With that, Glorfindel took Asfaloth's reins and handed them to Éowyn. "If you wouldn't mind looking after Asfaloth, my Lady, I would be greatly obliged. Ride him if you wish; he is very friendly, and responds particularly well to gentle pats on the nose."

Éowyn looked like she'd keel over if she got one more surprise, but with her mouth wide open, she nodded. "Certainly, my Lord," she replied.

Glorfindel flashed her a gleaming, appreciative smile, and uttering our thanks once again, we set off toward Edoras.

When we got out of sight of the others (which didn't take long, as they filed into a small pass in the mountains), I was Glorfindel's ride for the next hour and a half until we reached the familiar sight of Edoras. Thankfully, the guards recognised us from our last visit and let us inside.

It was heartening to see that the place looked so much more alive now, even with the evacuations in mind. There was a pride that hadn't been there before.

"This place is really on the up and up, isn't it?" I remarked to Glorfindel chirpily. "Nice touch, whatever it is they've done, I must say."

"I was just thinking the same thing," he returned with a warm smile. "It feels much more welcoming now than it did at our last visit. More… alive, somehow."

When we had reached the top of the hill, we saw the Golden Hall of Meduseld, which appeared to have enjoyed the same improvement as the rest of Edoras, but to an even greater extent. How this happened remains a mystery to me, but the greyish stones from which the hall was made glowed a deep, rich yellow in the sunlight. For once, I could actually see how the building got the word 'golden' in its name.

It was nice to have had that initial feelgood period before we entered the hall, because the first half hour of speaking with Théoden was almost exclusively awkward in the extreme.

First off, it's not the done thing for an emissary to show up to another realm unannounced. This time, we had no Théodred to escort us and inform his father of who we were. Being accompanied by someone of some status in the area affords you a certain confidence, and we just didn't have it, despite the fact that our purpose was clear and highly likely to be appreciated.

I was to do much of the talking, Glorfindel and I decided, because of the two of us, Théoden was more likely to remember me.

This was, in hindsight, a rather imprudent judgement. I did not ooze the universally-appreciated, winning charm of my husband, a trait far more valued in the diplomatic field than my own lovable awkwardness. This had been evident from the get-go, and after witnessing the way I had greeted Gil-Galad upon meeting him for the first time, Elrond had ruled that I was not to initiate any kind of diplomatic discussions.

That was a wise move on his part, and he would never have let me hear the end of it if he'd had to watch what happened in Edoras.

Instead of standing clearly in the doorway, banging hard on the door, and articulately announcing myself as I ought to have, I got uncharacteristically nervous and proceeded like I was trying to get Elrond's attention when he was in one of his moods.

"Helloooo…?" I croaked gently as I stuck my head around the door frame, softly bouncing my knuckles off the wood. "King Théoden?"

Not even the guards had noticed, and so I plucked up my courage and tried again, raising my voice by about half a decibel.

"Your Majesty? Can we come in a minute, please?"

Still nothing. Glorfindel, bless him, had the gumption to rap his knuckles hard on the door frame, and when everyone in the hall looked up, they would have seen a pair of hands holding me in mid-air and plonking me down into the middle of the doorway for them to see me better.

Tittering broke out in the hall when the guards saw me standing there like a pudding, and Théoden called out, "Who goes there?"

Thankfully, that seemed to be enough to kick me into gear.

"I am Rhodri of Imladris, Your Majesty, accompanied by Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower," I announced as I took a step forward, gesturing at my spouse.

Intrigued and seemingly pleased that we had come, Théoden invited us to approach his throne.

Brimming with confidence now, I strode in, Glorfindel at my side, and together, we bowed at his throne and were cordially welcomed.

And my god, you'd think Queer Eye had come and worked their magic on this man, because he had changed so dramatically that it was hard to believe he was the same person as the shrunken, haunted, grey-skinned husk of a human we had seen last time.

The new Théoden, Théoden 2.0, was tall, pensive, and radiated warmth and strength as he sat straight on his throne. His eyes were clear and sharp, and his cheeks were rosy. He looked the picture of health, really.

"You might not remember me, Your Majesty, but Lord Glorfindel and I were here only fairly recently, about some three years ago," I said in the hopes of building some familiarity with him.

Théoden shook his head. "I remember very little of anything that has happened these last years, I am sorry to say," he replied regretfully.

"That doesn't surprise me, Your Majesty. You were very unwell at the time," I agreed carefully.

He nodded. "I was," he admitted, "but with the help of Gandalf, those days are behind me."

Glorfindel and I bit our lips a little at the mention of our darling wizard, but Théoden moved on rather quickly.

"What brings the two of you to Rohan in these troubled times?"

"We make our way southward with a small impromptu regiment of some hundred and fifty Elves, Your Majesty, and large amounts of supplies as well. We had planned to stop by here to enquire if Rohan was in need of assistance before continuing on to Gondor. We ran into Lady Éowyn leading a large number of your people just before they were about to turn inward to the mountain range and make for the Hornburg, and she told us of Saruman's plans for attack."

"Ah, I see," Théoden said as he nodded once. "Well, we would greatly appreciate any assistance you may afford us. Éowyn told you, no doubt, that we are vastly outnumbered."

"She did indeed," Glorfindel confirmed.

"Mmm. We intend to set out for the Hornburg shortly, so you come at the right time, be assured. In fact, we are likely to depart within the hour."

"Excellent," I said with a smile. "Our troops are likely already inside Helm's Deep, as they were instructed to put the supplies inside the garrison and follow the Lady Éowyn's directives until we returned, so we need only a moment's notice."

"Very good," he returned a benevolent smile. "In which case, I must excuse myself so as to ready my own troops, and we can all meet at the front gates within the hour."

"Understood. We will see you again shortly, then," I replied. As Théoden stood up, I quickly remembered to ask something.

"Oh, Your Majesty?"

"Mmm?"

"How's your boy Théodred doing?" I asked. "We didn't see him when we came in here, and we would love to say hello to him and thank him for his hospitality when last we visited." Glorfindel nodded happily, cheerful at the prospect of saying a quick hidy-do.

Théoden's face fell, and his gaze sank to the floor. "Théodred is dead," he said softly, his eyes filling with tears. "He was killed in a skirmish with Saruman's forces some time ago."

I closed my eyes in mortified horror as I felt my soul leave my body. Of all the gaffes I could have made, it had to be the dead relative one. Glorfindel let out a shocked, "Oh!" and clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Oh, Your Majesty, we are so sorry for your loss," I said. "We had no idea."

"For a while, neither did I," he choked bitterly before swallowing hard and forcing calmness. "If you wish to visit him, though, you will find his grave down the path a little and off to the right," he gestured wearily in a two o'clock sort of direction. "Look for the mound with a patch of fresh simbelmynë." With a polite incline of the head and a watery smile, he excused himself and left the hall. Glorfindel and I, flabbergasted and scarlet with embarrassment, shuffled out behind him.

With an hour at our disposal, we slowly wandered down the hill to try and locate Théodred's burial site. Sure enough, among the small, grassy eminences was a heap of relatively fresh dirt that was peppered with the tiny white flowers Théoden had spoken of. We glanced at each other and headed over, standing in front of the grave in silence.

"What do we do?" Glorfindel asked. He had never visited a grave before. I threw my mind back to the thrice-yearly visits we would pay my mother's parents at the cemetery- on each of their birthdays and for All Saints' Day. My grandparents had been staunch Anglicans, though, so the practices of attending to the graves, laying fresh flowers, and doing a round or two of the rosary were really not suitable here.

"I can't think of anything appropriate to do except sing, to be honest with you," I said with a sigh. Glorfindel nodded and drew in a deep breath, and together, the two of us stood sadly before Théodred's resting place, making the same beautiful, haunting music that had made my stomach turn so many nights on the way here.

"_My harp is turned to grieving,  
And my flute to the voice of those who weep.  
Spare me, Ilúvatar,  
For my days are as nothing."_

I was almost tempted to stop singing on occasion to let Glorfindel's rich, mellifluous baritone voice pour into my ears uninterrupted, but someone had to cover the higher notes. The slow, sorrowful tune died away after a handful of minutes, and as we turned to walk back up the hill, we saw pairs of eyes on us all over the place. They all quickly turned away when we looked up, and people scattered to return to their tasks. We nodded at them all once and lowered our eyes again, and all of us entered an unspoken agreement to pretend this hadn't happened.

At the top of the hill, we had to decide where to go now, and as I turned and looked out at the view contemplatively, a screech from Glorfindel gave me such a start I jolted a little.

"_RHODRI! LOOK!" _he shrieked, gesturing wildly at something a hundred or so metres away.

My jaw dropped as I turned my head to look where he was pointing. At first I thought it was Curumo, because of the white hair and garments, and I was about to roll up my sleeves and give the bastard the hiding of a lifetime, but then I realised it wasn't Curumo.

"Good lord," I whispered. "It's- it's-"

"HE'S A WANKER, RHODRI, LOOK!"

And wouldn't you know it, just as Glorfindel had screamed out the word 'wanker,' none other than Olórin turned around, saw us, and beamed.

"Truer words have never been spoken," I murmured, too shocked to laugh at the absurdity of it all as we rushed over to him.

"Well, hello, you two," he greeted us warmly, barely getting the words out before Glorfindel and I snatched him into an embrace.

"You bastard, I thought you'd bloody _died!" _I half-shouted at him. "We've had people singing funeral songs for you for weeks!"

"I did die," he replied. "That vision you got was me sending my thoughts to you as I fell from the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm in Moria while fighting a Balrog."

Glorfindel, probably the only living person who could relate, nodded sympathetically, putting a hand on Olórin's shoulder.

"Walk with me," Olórin requested kindly, and placing a hand on each of our shoulders, he steered us off with him.

For the next forty minutes, he told us of the Fellowship's journey to Moria, his own fight with the Balrog and death, resurrection, and how he had met with Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas in the Fangorn Forest and journeyed with them here to Rohan.

Glorfindel and I gasped. "You mean Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas are here, too?"

"They are," he replied, nodding to his left. The three of them were standing there, waving gently at us.

Letting out a joyful laugh, we ran to them and greeted them with enthusiastic hugs.

"Thank goodness you're safe!" Glorfindel exclaimed with relief.

"Where are the others, though?" I asked as I looked around quickly.

"You ran before I could deliver the next part of the story," Olórin said with a raised eyebrow as he drew over to us, his hands folded in front of him calmly.

"Sorry about that, Olórin," I said with a guilty smile that quickly fled when I remembered that the missing members was a rather serious affair.

"The Fellowship broke as we reached Parth Galen," Aragorn took over as he looked at us sadly. "An ambush of Orcs from the Eastern shores."

My eyes widened. "What happened to the others?"

"Frodo and Sam escaped by boat. The Orcs kidnapped Merry and Pippin, and we three followed their tracks until we reached the Fangorn Forest, where we met Olórin," Legolas supplied.

"So Merry and Pippin are still missing?" I gulped.

Gimli nodded sadly, and I felt the pit of my stomach bottom out.

"And Boromir? What of him?" I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

The fear bubbled up in me as the three of them and Olórin cast their eyes down heavily. "He tried to take the Ring from Frodo, and amid the clamour that broke out between the two of them, he attracted the attention of the Orcs," Aragorn began, his voice shaking a little.

Glorfindel's eyes closed sorrowfully.

"And?" I demanded, not quite keeping the desperation out of my voice as the ambiguity stirred me up.

"Well, we were hugely outnumbered, Rhodri," Legolas began as he brushed a tear away. "He fought valiantly, but he had already taken so many arrows to the chest before we reached him that there was nothing more we could do."

A puff of air left me like someone had just sunk their fist into my stomach. My treatments hadn't been enough, and it was much too late to intervene in any meaningful way.

Most psychologists do experience a client dying at some point or another, and as a rule, it hits us very hard. It had happened to me once before: Early into my career, I had taken a trip to Brazil for three weeks, and one of my clients, who had voluntarily entered into a long-term facility, had checked themselves out and committed suicide the day before they were due to see me. I had promised that we would start on a new exercise when I returned from my holiday, but for reasons I never found out (they left no note), they couldn't wait that long. I didn't sleep more than an hour a night for a week, haunted by the counterproductive 'shoulda, coulda, woulda' thoughts. Could I have stopped it from happening if I'd started them on the new exercise before I left? Had I missed something? Was this my fault? With help from my supervisor, I was able to pull it together and keep my clinic open, but the period remains the only time I had seriously considered quitting my job, and boy had it come close sometimes.

Those memories came flooding back, and now the same cycle of thinking ricocheted chaotically in my head as a sweat broke out over me, wondering if I could have done anything more, been any stricter, intervened earlier or more forcefully.

"How had he been on the rest of the trip?"

"Unwell, actually," Gimli replied, frowning thoughtfully. "He wasn't able to keep much food down, and he kept putting drops of something foul-tasting into his mouth."

"Was he weakened from all the vomiting?"

Gimli shook his head.

"Did he have enough of the foul-tasting stuff?"

"He seemed to get through it rather quickly," Aragorn said, looking at me curiously. "I think he was trying to ration it after a while, but he did still have some, if I remember correctly."

Gimli and Legolas nodded.

"He was beyond all of our aid, Rhodri," Olórin said to me gently. "The Ring's pull was too strong for him. He was warned, and he paid the price."

I nodded numbly as the ghost of the kind, warm twenty-year-old Boromir's smile flashed through my head, filling me with hot, stinging regret.

"Come on," I said hollowly. "Let's get down to the front gate. Théoden will be waiting for us."


	73. The last harassment of Curumo

**Author's note: **

TW: war, gruesome war crimes (never sexual), mention of gore.

Another chapter that is increeeedibly long. Possibly the longest to date haha. Take care and be kind to yourself! You matter a whole lot!

Wordlessly, we made for the front gate where, sure enough, Théoden had congregated with his army, ready for the big off.

"Are you all ready?" he asked heartily, the early afternoon sun making a formidable, beautiful silhouette of him on his horse as it shone in the background.

I gave a small smile and nodded. "We were born ready."

"I like your spirit. Well, we have horses ready for you over there. Mount as you will, and off we go."

I couldn't fault the guy. He had full marks for energy in this situation. I was sure it was an attempt to distract himself from the misery of his son's death, and I could see the appeal. Slapping on a similarly feigned look of enthusiasm, we marched over to our horses and climbed on. With that, we were off.

There were still a few hours of daylight left, thankfully, so we weren't riding in the pitch black all the way. Not that we needed to worry about that, though. There seemed to be some sort of burning going on over at Isengard, which lit up the night sky (and covered a third of it in a plume of smoke).

"Strange times over at Curumo's place," I remarked to Olórin.

"Mmm," he murmured suspiciously. "After this battle, I intend to go over there and check on him."

"We'll come with you!" said Glorfindel, now seriously keen to get in on his share of the adventures. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas all spoke up in agreement to that, and that set our travel plans in stone for the next few days, which had Glorfindel in the most terrific mood I'd seen since the Hobbits had challenged him to an eating competition.

When we were close to the pass in the mountains to turn in to Helm's Deep, I excused myself and had my horse follow everyone else inside as I zipped back to grab my tripper-upper. No way in hell was I leaving it outside when the dingbats of Isengard could use it as a battering ram.

The inside of this fortress was really something. It kind of reminded me a little of Erestor's description of the underground Elven garrison of Nargothrond, where he and Gil-Galad had spent some of their youth. Sublime and vast, almost unimaginably big, with ceilings so high it was almost dizzying to look up. When you did direct your gaze heavenward, though, you could see large holes that let in sunlight and gave you a glimpse at a couple of stars if you had a clear night. There was very little trace of the outdoors in there otherwise; almost all of the walls and fixtures were simply hewn from the side of the mountain. Everything bled into everything else, giving the place this strange aura of continuity everywhere you looked.

As I glanced around, the real harshness of war seemed ever more apparent as I watched people getting fitted for armour. In this context I would normally have said able men, but there were quite old men who could only swing a sword with difficulty, who themselves were flanked by boys of no more than ten, the chain mail hanging off them like a ballgown. The sight was an extremely disturbing one, and I caught myself recounting my grandparents' and great-grandparents' stories of being sent to war as teenagers and younger. I'd always found the tales difficult to visualise, but now I was getting a very vivid and unwelcome insight into how it must have been for them.

For many of the people inside the fortress, it seemed to be the first time they had been here, and they wandered around in awe as much as they dared permit themselves-- or as much as their parents allowed them to, in the case of the children (well, the ones who weren't getting fitted out for bastarding armour, anyway. I suddenly felt even more relieved that I had lit a fire under Elrond for not sharing supplies in the month prior).

The newcomers' exploration didn't last long, though; a horn from outside rang through. I turned to one of Théoden's soldiers in confusion.

"The warning horn," he said to me. "The enemy's approaching. You'd best get your soldiers together, my Lady, as I'd guess there's about fifteen minutes before they arrive."

"Thanks, pal. Best of luck to you," I said with a clap on the shoulders before Glorfindel and I sped off to round our folks up. Happily, we had been travelling in our armour, and so had no real need to bother with changing. It was just a matter of getting to our positions before the curtain rose.

When we had gathered everyone up, we sent them off to their strategic areas. Sixty archers plus Legolas and Gimli were to make their way up to the very top platform of the garrison with Glorfindel. The remaining ninety, along with Aragorn, were close-range fighters following me. Olórin was nowhere to be seen, but we assumed he must have been close by.

"Be careful out there," I murmured to Glorfindel as we were about to part. "Call for me if you need anything."

"I will if you do," he breathed back.

"See you in a few hours, then," I winked before turning to my troops. "Ready?" I shouted. They stood to attention. "Right. Let's go, then!"

We fell into a quick march, and Glorfindel's bunch scarpered up the stairs with him.

When we got outside and into the position Théoden had asked us to take, I got the first view of the enemy approaching, and my word, they'd really pushed the boat out. Night had well and truly fallen now, and the moon reflected off a sea of armour that seemed to approach like a silvery sneaker wave. At a vague guess, there would have been about ten thousand- over three times the combined forces of Rohan, Imladris, and, judging by all the angry trees walking around, the Ents.

We spread out, making a unit beside one of the main entryways to the Hornburg, which was ours to guard for the duration of the battle, watching as the enemy drew up and stood still. The rain had started to fall, freezing and heavy as the drops pelted onto my face.

I turned around to face my unit. They watched me expectantly, waiting for me to deliver the customary war address, and I already knew what it was going to be. It had to be short, to the point, and enough to evoke a serious and unrelenting determination to absolutely steamroll the enemy.

Which brings me to a very interesting observation about Elven culture, following earlier observations about the wonders of their parenting styles. The Elves (mothers and fathers alike, remembering that the society is a largely androgynous one) are very tender and loving with children, and hold them in particularly high esteem. Their wellbeing is rightly prioritised far above all else, and as such makes for very protective adults- for all children, not just their own, who become unscrupulously hostile at the prospect of them being harmed. If the idea of children being forced to fight in a war wasn't going to incense them, nothing would.

"Right," I shouted out. "You shouldn't be here tonight, but I want all of you to look inside the open door behind you."

They did so, and as they turned around, I heard a horrified collective gasp as they saw the small, geared-up children filing to the back of the troops, hauling their oversized swords.

"Neither should they!" I roared at them as they turned back to face me. "They weren't dressing up for their own safety. You are the last defence! If the enemy gets past you, the children are the force to be reckoned with before the civilians. Don't you dare let a single Orc through that goddamned door, do you hear me? I expect you to ruthlessly and mercilessly obliterate anything that comes your way!"

Terribly do-gooder, Dudley Do-Right-esque as my brief speech was, it was just the ticket. They were properly riled now, and I knew I could rely on them to get especially defensive. Now we were ready to start.

And good thing, too, because that was when the warhorn blew, and things kicked off from there.

The funny thing about fighting in a war is that there is a lot going on, but the entire experience seems so repetitive when it's recounted. Not to mention rather distasteful.

Everyone knows what happens. Enemy approaches, tries to kill you, you try to kill it, and ideally, you get it done before any of theirs do. Rinse and repeat.

That exact thing went on long into the night. The temperature steadily dropped, and the rain grew icier, making for terrible slipping hazards on the stone walkways. I was proud as punch of my unit, who were every bit as aggressive and dangerous as I'd hoped they would be. The forces on our side cut such a swath through the first wave (Orcs) that they actually managed to fill up the dikes surrounding the Hornburg with their bodies- a monumental effort.

The second wave was much more formidable, and had us biting our nails for quite some time: Curumo's Uruk-Hai made their debut here, and by crikey were they tough. They were almost twice the height of the Orcs, and at least three times as strong. They utterly obliterated the frontlines of Théoden's bunch, and several lines behind that.

Around five and a half hours in, there was a huge crashing sound that seemed to have come from the other front entrance, which was closer to the mountain pass through which Curumo's forces were passing.

"Auntie!" Aragorn shouted to me, and before he could tell me what he was going to do, I yelled back.

"Go, and take at least ten of the unit with you! Be careful over there!"

With a nod, he grabbed a handful of people and bolted off. Indulging in a quick glance over my shoulder, I could see up on the top floors that Glorfindel was having a whale of a time destroying the ladders the Orcs and Uruk-Hai were using to scale up there, tipping them over with a flourish and sending the creatures tumbling back onto their own.

So far, so good, I thought to myself as I threw myself back into the fray, snapping necks and cashing cheques as one did in those trying times. I'm not sure if my confidence tempted fate or what, but the sound of an enormous explosion coming from the same place as the crash reverberated over the battlefield, shaking the sodden ground we stood on.

I didn't even dare to think whether Aragorn or any of my unit had gotten caught up in that. The Uruk-Hai had started to penetrate the defences we had here, and were getting worryingly close to us now. Though the Elves didn't tire readily, mine were starting to show the first signs of weariness now. I was getting frustrated. My tripper-upper was of no use here, because it wasn't big enough to crush, or sharp enough to slice. I knew I could have been doing so much more widespread damage, but armed only with a couple of swords, what could I do?

And then it hit me: Curumo's forces must have penetrated that wall initially with something. What if they had a battering ram?

I yelled over my shoulder at one of the captains, who was fighting right behind me. "I need to go and get something. Hold steady for me here until I get back!"

He nodded, and I sped off in the direction of the breached wall. To my intense relief, Aragorn was alive and kicking, as were my ten soldiers.

"Auntie! What are you doing over here?" Aragorn asked loudly between swipes as masses of enemies piled in through the breach.

"I need that battering ram outside," I shouted back. "Can we clear a path enough that I could possibly get through to it?"

"We can try!"

Aragorn yelled to my units to direct their attention to the smashed wooden door, the lesser of the breaches but with more enemies coming through. With our concentrated efforts, we had sufficiently unblocked my path so that I could grab hold of the battering ram.

Except the bastard was absolutely colossal. I hadn't anticipated it'd be as large as it was. It was about as big as the California Redwood trees you might come across on the front page of the National Geographic magazine, and held up by a host of similarly massive wheeled supports.

"For god's sake," I muttered. I couldn't even reach it, it was too high off the ground. I ended up ripping off one of its supports and, finding that the wheel sat on it quite nicely, I thought it would do what I had in mind quite nicely.

Taking the pole so that these tractor-sized wheels lay on their sides out in front of me, I pushed it like I was trying to ram someone with a shopping trolley, and boy howdy was that satisfying. I was knocking Orcs and Uruk-Hai here, there, and everywhere like they were bowling pins, and it only took two or three minutes of nonstop pushing as hard as I could go before I had crushed (try not to think about it too hard) about seventy-five of them under the wheels.

That made just enough space for the front doors forces to overwhelm whatever was left of the enemy that had penetrated through the rather narrow pass into the Hornburg, which meant that we could start pushing back at last.

As we hit forward and made our way out onto the battlefield proper, I noticed that the sun was starting to rise and the rain, at long last, was letting up. Things were looking terrible on our side, though. The exhausted troops that remained were getting flattened by Curumo's lackeys, and even though the finish line was in sight, reaching it as the victor seemed unlikely. We were probably down to our last few hundred, and there were still at least a thousand of Curumo's people.

As I made to run back in and get another support to repeat the literal mowing-down process, I saw something stirring up in the hills where the sun was rising.

"Oh, shit, it better not be more of these bastards," I whispered to myself.

Happily, it was not more of those bastards. As a matter of fact, it was quite the opposite. Our newest wanker, it seemed, had shown up with another thousand-ish troops, looking fresh-faced and ready for action.

Predictably, this most welcomed influx along with us absolutely steamrolled what was left of the enemy forces, thus bringing the Battle of the Hornburg to a close, a decisive win on our part.

As soon as it was over and I had rounded up my forces, we shuttled back into the Hornburg to inspect the damage. Miraculously, my unit had sustained only some bodily injuries, and no deaths. I was beyond thrilled. The door we were guarding was perfectly intact, and the children who were in our charge had never needed to come out and fight.

Happy that all was well for my own troops, I dismissed them to let them rest awhile and ran upstairs to find Glorfindel. To my relief, he was completely intact, and all but three of his troops had come through unscathed, the three injured ones sporting some puncture wounds and deep gashes that mercifully hadn't hit anything vital.

"Well done, beloved," I said to him with a smile. "I saw you lay waste to those ladders. Could've watched you all day."

"I might say the same for you with your makeshift Orc plough," he laughed back, eyes twinkling mischievously.

We wandered around together in an attempt to find the rest of the party making for Isengard, and found two of them, Gimli and Legolas, both perching on a pile of Orc bodies.

"Final count: forty-two," we heard Legolas declare to Gimli as he smugly cleaned off an arrow and stuck it back in his quiver.

"Forty-two! Oh!" Gimli repeated in feigned amazement. "That's not bad for a pointy-eared Elven princeling." He caught sight of Glorfindel and me approaching now and raised his voice a little to be sure we'd hear. "I, myself, am sitting pretty on forty-_three."_

Glorfindel let out a tiny snort, and the two of them looked up at him sharply. He blushed, quickly saying, "Do excuse me, I had something in my nose."

"How many did you get, then?" Gimli rumbled, watching Glorfindel suspiciously. Legolas leaned forward, scrutinising my spouse's face steadily reddening face.

"Ah, not very important, really," he jabbered. "We really must find Olórin, do excuse—"

"Oho, I see! Afraid to engage, are you?"

"N-no, not at all, I just—ah…" Glorfindel trailed off and looked at me pleadingly.

I rolled my eyes and calmly said, "Come now, you two. You know arithmetic isn't Glorfindel's strong suit. Anyway, when you've both finished your attempts to outdo each other, make your way downstairs and wait for us by the front entry. Isengard awaits!"

This was accepted reluctantly by Gimli and Legolas, and we high-tailed it to find Aragorn and Olórin instead.

"What was that about?" I murmured to Glorfindel when we were well out of earshot.

"I think I got around a hundred and fifty," he mumbled, chuckling modestly as I pat his back and gave him The Nod. "What about you?"

I shrugged blankly. "No idea. I wasn't keeping track. I can guarantee that it was more than one and less than a million, but beyond that, I couldn't say."

"How are you supposed to discuss your statistics with others if you don't pay attention to them?" he asked playfully, putting an arm around me now.

"I prefer to save my powers of numeracy for keeping count of happier things, like how much cake you demolish in eating competitions with people less than half your size," I returned with a wicked grin.

"Ah, but they have twice the stomach!"

"Pfft."

Olórin and Aragorn had been of a like mind to us, and had been in the process of hunting us up when we met them at the bottom of the staircase.

"Got all your limbs still attached?" I asked jovially.

"Don't even joke about that," Olórin replied with a soft shudder. "Where are Gimli and Legolas?"

"They will be down directly to meet us at the front door," Glorfindel informed him. "They have a small disagreement to iron out first."

"They're comparing kill counts now, aren't they?" Aragorn asked wearily. "They've been doing it all night."

"You're spot on there, honeybun," I confirmed.

Olórin rolled his eyes and shook his head, and bid us to follow him outside so we could ready the horses. Théoden, looking thoroughly worn out, was down by the door already, preparing his own ride.

"Théoden King will also be joining us," Olórin advised, which was met with smiles all around.

As we rode out, I could see why my limbs attached comment to Olórin fell flat. The Orcs and Uruk-Hai had desecrated the bodies of many of the fallen soldiers, and along the outermost gates to the Hornburg (where I hadn't been during the battle) was strewn with torsos, limbs, and entrails. The sight was unspeakably nightmarish, and drew a small gasp out of me. Olórin, who had been watching all this, put a hand on my shoulders gently, and as I went to apologise to him, he shook his head gently and gave me a compassionate smile.

The journey to Isengard was rather short, not least because all of the forest and vegetation had long been removed which, according to Olórin, would have dragged out the journey by some few weeks.

Isengard itself looked like the epicentre of multiple natural disasters. I could see there had at least been a flood and a landslide, as quite a bit of mountain surrounding the area had crumbled, and the land was so wet for the last kilometre of the journey that we had to leave the horses up on a rocky plateau and wade through to the middle alone.

We were practically swimming by the time we got to the Tower of Orthanc (the only remaining structure), which was situated a little lower than the path in. Aside from the swooshing of the water as we waded through, there had been silence as we wondered what on earth we could expect to see further along.

That silence was shattered like a dropped glass when Gimli suddenly started having a conniption of sorts, spluttering and exclaiming incoherently.

"What is it, Gimli?" Olórin asked, half bewildered and half alarmed.

Gimli said nothing, merely pointing a meaty finger at a large pile of rubble off to the left a little. We followed where he was indicating and our jaws dropped. Sitting atop the wreckage like cherries on a sundae were Merry and Pippin, proud as punch and swinging their legs back and forth as they jovially waved to us, smoking pipes in hand.

"Welcome, my lords and lady, to Isengard!" called out Merry, beaming at us and taking a tremendous drag on his pipe.

I will never, ever forget the expression on Olórin's face at that moment. Of all the scathing, exhausted, Lord-give-me-strength disbelieving looks he's ever given, that one had to be the most pronounced. You could almost hear him say, "I killed a Balrog, died, and went to war for this shit." To date, I have never come so close to having an aneurysm from suppressing the urge to laugh.

Predictably enough, Olórin said nothing as he presumably sent up a signal flare to every available deity asking for urgent assistance for his seriously endangered forbearance. Fortunately, Gimli was able to fill in for him with some choice words of his own.

"You _rascals!"_ he roared. "A merry hunt you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and--" his eyes almost popped out of his head when he caught sight of the smoke rings Pippin was blowing now, "and _SMOKING!"_

Pippin straightened his coat and in a crisp, matter-of-fact voice informed us that, "We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. We're under orders from Treebeard, who's taken over management of Isengard."

My grin threatened to split my face a mile wide. The trees had bitten back after all that ravaging Curumo had presumably ordered to fuel his industry. As if the moment couldn't get any better, I looked up and to my gleeful astonishment, saw Curumo himself standing on the balcony of the Tower of Orthanc, supremely displeased at everything that was happening.

"Oi," I saw quietly to Glorfindel and Olórin, nudging them both and gesturing skywards.

"Hah," Olórin said under his breath, which alerted the others to Curumo's presence now.

"Hey, can I shake the tower and make him fall off?" I asked Olórin excitedly. "I reckon I'd be just strong enough to manage it."

"No," he said softly. "We need him to talk, not fall to his death."

"Oh, I could catch him," I offered.

Olórin shook his head. "Even in defeat, Curumo is dangerous."

I sighed dramatically. "Okay, boss."

Curumo didn't seem especially interested in any of us, though, and instead addressed Théoden, asking in an amplified version of his usual simpering drawl if he would be open to a peaceful discussion.

Théoden, bless him, wasn't having a bar of it, and informed Curumo in so many words that true peace would reign when Curumo was hanging from the gallows. I could've shaken the man's hand at that moment, honestly.

Curumo scowled, called Théoden a feeble old fool, and turned to Olórin. "And what do you want, Gandalf Greyhame?"

"Your evil has cost many lives, Curumo," Olórin replied steadily. "But many who are at risk now may yet be saved! Come, Curumo, you were deep in the enemy's council."

"Ah, so it is information you want, is it?" Curumo said, a wide, revolting smile twisting his face. "Well, I have some for you."

I don't know how he had managed to conceal something that was almost the size of a bowling ball under his white robes, but he obviously had managed somehow, because in a flash, he produced a palantír and looked at it like it was the only screen in Middle-Earth with an internet connection.

"Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. You didn't see it, but the Great Eye did, and now his attack will come very soon! You are all going to die," he announced jubilantly.

"You already know this, Olórin. You cannot think that this Ranger," Curumo gestured dismissively at Aragorn, "will ever take the throne of Gondor. An exile, dragged in from the shadows? He will never be crowned king."

Now he was on a roll, dishing out insults to all and sundry. "You have quite a way of hurting those you profess to love, Olórin, all a means to your own ends. Tell me, what did you say to the two Halflings before you sent them to their deaths?"

Olórin pursed his lips, having just about reached the end of his diplomacy. "Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared."

Curumo sneered derisively and, pointing his staff down at us, shot a fireball down that engulfed Olórin in flames. Panicking, we all went to throw water on him but realised that Olórin was not being burned. He stepped out of the fire totally unharmed, his clothes still as pristine and intact as ever.

"Curumo," Olórin said through slightly gritted teeth, "your staff is broken."

A loud bang came from up there, and we saw Curumo's staff explode in his hands, and he dropped the palantír from the shock of it, which rolled off the edge and dropped neatly into Olórin's outstretched hand. The sound of Curumo screaming with rage was like music to my ears.

Satisfied, Olórin quickly covered the palantír, beckoned for Merry and Pippin to come to us. Curumo, now absolutely spitting with rage, was hurling all sorts of insults at us as we waded off. I turned back one last time and wordlessly held up my middle finger to him.

"What in the world are you doing, Rhodri?" Legolas asked curiously as he looked at my gesture.

"That is the gesture she makes at Elrond when his back is turned if he forbids her from doing something," Glorfindel murmured to him quietly.

"It is a gesture of displeasure or scorn, and one that Elrond had better not find out about, either, darling spouse," I said in a cheery tone of warning.

That was a suitable enough explanation for Legolas, and he shrugged and raised his finger to Curumo as well. Glorfindel's was next, and eventually the gesture spread all through the group until we were holding our fingers up like candles in a vigil. What a beautiful moment of actions speaking louder than words.


	74. Lady on the street, slayer in the sheets

**Author's note:** TW: WAR! DEATH! GORE! It's all here today in the account of the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. Also mention of drunkenness à la Gimli.

Am I sorry for the ridiculously long chapter? No, not really. I had actually lost track in how big this had gotten. Take breaks as needed, sip on those fluids, and be good to yourselves!

**Philippa: **do excuse the delayed reply! I would argue that the Maia get an advantage over the Middle-Earth races in terms of getting along because there are no stereotypes floating around. They just... appeared. That's where it ends for them, to my mind, and it's basically up to them to create a good impression for themselves and win people over as they can. But Rhodri definitely doesn't get along with everyone. She was constantly itching not to pummel Curumo, and Wormtongue wasn't far behind on the list.

**NoSignalBlueScreen: **oh mate! I really appreciate the feedback! I'm relieved that there isn't too much romance. Honestly, I wanted this to mostly be about adventure and clinical psychology... and terrible jokes tbh. :P Thanks so much for your kind comment!

**guest:** Rhodri doesn't _always_ give the middle finger, just to be clear. Just once in a while in as loving and playful a way as possible, and only when he really deserves it. :P

§

We high-tailed it back to Edoras, ready for an absolutely rip-roaring party to celebrate what would hopefully not be the last victory in this particular period. I silently wondered to myself where everyone was going to sleep, since I was certain this must've been the biggest influx of guests Rohan had had in quite some time.

I wasn't wrong. When we got back, we could see that people were spilling out absolutely everywhere. Residents' houses were packed to the rafters, even with all the deaths that had happened. In another gesture that had me proud as punch, our unit had in our absence been assisting the locals with fixing up their buildings, and the place looked even nicer this time around than the last.

Éowyn, upon seeing us come up the hill, ran over to meet us, treating us to a glowing smile as she did. Her smile was contagious and had us all grinning like Cheshire cats in moments. As she looked at all of us, she paused a moment and her face went pink before she looked away again. I glanced to my right, where Legolas, Aragorn, and Olórin stood, all in their characteristic good humour, and wondered what had happened.

Shrugging it off, I dismounted and handed the reins of my lovely steed Ælfflæd to one of the stablehands and made for the hall. The sun was setting, and the party had apparently been on standby until Théoden returned, so it was due to start within the hour.

"This is going to be excellent," Glorfindel enthused. "I have been hoping we might have a celebration of some sort since the day before the battle."

And he was absolutely right. I declared more than once that night that the Rohirrim were the leading authorities in Middle-Earth on how to have a ripper of a knees-up. The only time there had been any silence was at the very beginning, when Théoden stood at the front of the hall and raised his goblet.

"Tonight," he announced to the sea of attentive onlookers, "we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail!" we all called back loudly, drinking from our own goblets in unison.

And with that, the festivities had begun. The music came on with a roar, and the food and beverages seemed to be in endless supply the entire night (had we been partially responsible for that?). In terms of energy, you could barely tell who was an Elf and who was a mortal, everyone was dancing so vigorously all night. Even Olórin, usually the contemplative type at parties, was hounded into a few dances by Merry and Pippin, who themselves had been entertaining half the room with their drinking songs.

As for Glorfindel and me, we zipped around like moths on speed all evening, either dancing or getting a month's worth of socialisation into half-hour timeslots. On one of the pauses we made to mingle a little, we found ourselves sitting with Olórin, Legolas, and Aragorn, watching Éowyn tear up the dance floor with Gimli. Unlikely pair though they were, they moved quickly, gracefully, and with a hell of a lot of power. Gimli lifted that girl over his head like she was made of feathers, it looked so effortless. Her glance kept coming over to our direction, her cheeks getting a little redder each time she did. With fairness to her, though, she was involved in some intense cardio. But then I saw that her gaze lingered a little longer each time. I glanced over to my right, where her eyes seemed to fall. Legolas, Aragorn, and Olórin were the ones seated there. Same as when we were on the horses.

After flicking my eyes back to Éowyn, who had a robust glow about her now, I quickly looked back to see if I could work out whom she'd been looking at, and the only person I saw making eye contact at the time was Olórin, who was smiling warmly at her.

A moment later, Olórin leaned over to me and whispered, "It seems that young Éowyn is rather intent on our Ranger.

The penny dropped. "Oh, it's _him_ she's looking at," I murmured.

Olórin frowned. "Well, yes. Who did you think she-" an awkward moment ensued as comprehension dawned on his face, which quickly gave way to a blistering look. "Me? Really?"

"Well, I saw you smiling at her as she was blushing."

"After she had made eye contact with her _actual_ interest, Rhodri!" Olórin hissed back. He shook his head. "I was so sure that Pippin was the most foolish individual I had met, but now I find myself reconsidering."

"Ugh, all right, don't rub it in, you bleached git," I swatted his arm.

Mercifully, Aragorn seemed not to have heard any of this exchange and leaned in to ask Olórin if he had heard anything new about Frodo. Glorfindel, who had been straining to look like he wasn't eavesdropping this entire time, now put an arm around me and shuffled even closer to me to unreservedly listen.

"No," Olórin replied after a moment. "Nothing."

"We have time," Aragorn said. "Every day, he moves closer to Mordor."

"Does he?" Olórin asked with uncharacteristic bitter doubt.

"What does your heart tell you?"

We watched Olórin closely as he drew in a deep breath and let it out again. "That Frodo is alive. Yes. Yes, he is alive."

"God, don't scare us like that, Olórin," I gently admonished him as I heaved a sigh of relief. "You really had me on edge for a second there."

Aragorn, grinning at us, stood up and went back into the middled to dance. Well, he was intending to, before Éowyn showed up in front of him as if out of nowhere, holding a ceremonial goblet.

Like the insufferably nosy people that we were, Olórin, Glorfindel and I, and now Legolas too, all tuned in to watch what was coming next. Smiling shyly, Éowyn held the goblet up and murmured some sort of traditional Rohirric toast. Aragorn, bound by ceremony, drank from the goblet and paused awkwardly as he moved his lips away from it, likely unnerved by her staring. After what must have been several decades, she finally tore her eyes off his, going brick-red.

"Oh, it's painful to watch," I moaned quietly into my hands. "I need to get out of here before-"

My woeful declaration was interrupted by a now rather squiffy Gimli wandering over and announcing to Legolas that there would be a drinking competition, if he was interested in competing. Legolas was a little bewildered but accepted the offer all the same.

"I don't know about you two," I said to Glorfindel and Olórin, "but there's no way I'm missing this."

They both shook their heads and the three of us stood up and followed Gimli over to a large table which was groaning under scores of pints of beer. The area was flocked by a group of Rohirrim, also looking quite tipsy, headed by a fellow who looked like Éowyn would if she'd had a beard.

"Right, now remember: no pauses, no spills-" Mr. Éowyn, apparently the overseer, began.

"-And no regurgitation," Gimli finished.

"We will drink to victory!" the bearded Éowyn declared.

"_To victory!"_ cried the participants as they grabbed at the nearest drink and proceeded to down it.

I can't imagine what the Rohirrim put in their booze, but the stuff featured at this table must have been very strong. Within the first three beers, most of the participants were asleep on the floor, and after twenty-five minutes, the only people left standing were the referee, Gimli, and Legolas.

Gimli, who I'm told was around 140 years old when this was happening, was knocking back the stuff in a way that I hadn't even witnessed at the most unrestrained university parties. This guy could really pack it away. But then, so could Legolas, who did keep up, but appeared to be drinking slowly because he was so much calmer about it.

After his _seventeenth _beer, Gimli finally started to show signs of wearing out. For the last two drinks, he had been singing some ribald song about skimpy Dwarven underwear, the lyrics to which I forced myself to forget for my own peace of mind. The song had many verses, it seemed, because he was coming up with new lyrics between mouthfuls. Either that or he was a bawdy Dwarven Goethe when he'd had a skinful, crafting whole verses on the spot.

By the time he'd reached the tenth verse, Gimli's legs very abruptly went out from underneath him, and he slithered off the seat and under the table. I dashed over just in time to stick my foot under his head before it smacked on the tiles.

All the spectators turned to Legolas, who had lined up all his empty pint glasses in neat rows of five and was still standing straight and calm. No dilated pupils, no out-of-character remarks. It was like he'd been sipping on water.

When Gimli passed out, he had consumed twenty beers. Legolas, seeing that he had had the same number, gingerly took one more and casually drank it. Placing the empty twenty-first glass on the table, he shrugged and said, "Game over."

A cheer broke out among the spectators, and Legolas, looking quite worried now, quickly strode over to us and murmured, "I feel a tingling in my fingers. I think it's affecting me."

"Just have a glass of water before you go to sleep tonight, mate," I said amid Glorfindel and Olórin's titters. "You'll be right as rain when you wake up, I promise."

"If you're sure," he said nervously, staring at his fingers and wiggling them a little. "I don't know how they stand doing this every night."

Gimli's boozy snoring was so bad that he had to be moved out onto the porch outside and covered with a horse blanket so that he didn't freeze to death. We were loath to do it, but we had no other option. We were so short on space that everyone had to sleep in the hall after it was cleared up, and nobody could reasonably be expected to enter any state of unconsciousness with Gimli roaring like a Sopwith Camel in the background.

I pulled myself up a space between Glorfindel and Olórin and lay down, using my backpack as a pillow. Glorfindel automatically assumed the same sleeping position he had every night since we'd gotten married, draping an arm and a leg over me and resting his head on my chest just below my chin, sighing happily as he did. A tutting sound came from Aragorn, who was lying to Glorfindel's right. I raised my head a little and looked over at him just in time to catch him rolling his eyes theatrically at us.

"You ought to be grateful your uncle's moved over all this way to make some room for you, you little turd," I said to him haughtily, arching an eyebrow. "And don't be thanking him for his trouble by putting your freezing cold feet on his back in the dead of night, you hear me? I've not forgotten your habits of thieving body heat from when we took you camping as a little'un. Your uncle's screams would nearly rupture my eardrums, you'd startle him that much."

Aragorn let out a small snort of laughter, turned over, and promptly fell asleep. Checking that nobody else was watching, I put a quick kiss on a slumbering Glorfindel's forehead and conked out for the night.

Well, not the whole night. It's never that simple, is it?

A piercing scream did, in fact, wake me an hour or two into my nap, and just as I was about to reach out to wrench Aragorn's icy toes off my husband's back, I realised the noise was coming from somewhere else as another voice filled the air.

"Pippin! Help! Gandalf! Someone help him!" shouted Merry.

I sat up, projecting Glorfindel upright in the process, and as we looked to our left, we saw a terror-stricken Pippin holding the Palantír, which glowed orange and glittered like fire in his clutches. Pippin was unable to tear himself away, the Palantír seemingly glued to his hands as he writhed in pain.

A door flew open and Aragorn and Legolas burst in, running over to Pippin. Aragorn wrenched it out of his hands and promptly sank to his knees, losing his grip of it and dropping the Palantír to the floor. It rolled a few feet away, whereupon a furious Olórin threw his blanket over it and rounded on a quivering supinate Pippin.

Upon seeing how cowered and distraught he was, Olórin softened immediately and knelt down, taking Pippin's face in his hands.  
"Gandalf- forgive me-" Pippin begged, wriggling as he tried to look away from Olórin.

"Look at me," Olórin said quietly, keeping Pippin's head steady. "Pippin."

Grimacing, Pippin wrenched his eyes open and looked up at Olórin, eyes brimming with tears.

"What did you see?"

"A white tree," he gasped. "It was in a stone courtyard. The city was burning."

Olórin frowned. "Minas Tirith? Is that what you saw?"

"I heard his voice in my head, Gandalf," he whispered fearfully. "I could see him!"

"What did you say to him?" Olórin asked urgently, eyes widening in alarm. "Tell me!"

"He asked my name, but I wouldn't tell him," he choked.

"And what of Frodo and the Ring?"

"No, nothing."

Olórin looked up at us. "We must speak with Théoden immediately."

Five minutes later, Glorfindel and I stood outside with Olórin, Aragorn, Legolas, Merry, and now Théoden, who was wrapped up in a dressing gown and looking gravely concerned at Olórin's account of what had just transpired. The sun had started to rise, a curiously optimistic thing given the events of the last ten minutes.

"Can we be sure that he was being truthful?" Théoden asked, frowning a little in suspicion.

"He would not lie about this. He is a fool, but not of that breed," Olórin assured him. "It would seem that we are quite fortunate that this happened. Now we are aware that Sauron intends to strike Minas Tirith. And Sauron, well, he has caught a glimpse of Elendil's heir, and that must strike some fear into his heart."

"I will go and warn them," Aragorn said after a moment.

Olórin's eyes widened. "No!" he said emphatically.

"Well, _somebody _must!" Aragorn protested.

"Yes, but not _you," _Olórin returned. "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river and look to the black ships. In the meantime, I must make for Minas Tirith with Pippin." Turning on his heel, Olórin dashed back inside to collect Pippin for their journey south.

In yet another stroke of impossibly good timing, two very familiar faces flew up the hill on their horses, their raven-black hair rippling out behind them.

We all stood there in amazement as they sprang off their horses, looking fresh as daisies as they jogged up the stairs to us.

"Elladan, Elrohir!" Aragorn greeted them in a half-murmur, totally thunderstruck.

The two of them shot him a gleaming smile before bowing politely to Théoden.

"You must be the sons of Elrond," Théoden said with a small smile.

"We are indeed, Your Majesty," Elladan said deferentially. "Sent by the very same, in fact, in the hopes that we might speak with Aragorn when you are finished with him."

"I see," Théoden replied. "In which case, I will leave him for you now. There is little more we can do tonight." Politely inclining his head and wishing us goodnight, he disappeared back in the direction of his chambers.

"We'll give you some privacy," I said to them, slipping my arm in Glorfindel's.

"Oh, no need, Auntie," Elladan said. "In fact, Ada said it was best you stay. You might find some useful information in the news we have to deliver."

"First of all, though," Elrohir continued, "we have something to give you, little brother." Undoing a belt around his waist, he held a longsword in its scabbard and together with Elladan, put it into Aragorn's hands.

Glorfindel and I made a soft, astonished noise. Is that…" whispered Glorfindel, whose words trailed off as Aragorn, smooth as silk, whipped the sword out of its sheath and held it up to inspect it.

"I think it is…" I breathed. The hilt looked like exactly the same one I had caught Bilbo replacing.

Elladan and Elrohir both nodded heartily. "It certainly is. Ada had it reforged. Look closely at the blade."

We glanced at the shaft of the sword, and could see the inscription 'I am Andúril who was Narsil, the sword of Elendil. Let the thralls of Mordor flee me.'

"Andúril…" Aragorn breathed. The Flame of the West. And what an apt name it was, as the red morning sun lit it with a glow that made it look like it had been stolen from a hot forge.

"It's about time you had it," Elladan said with a smile.

"And goodness knows you will need it soon enough," Elrohir added, a hint of trepidation in his voice.

"Ah, yes. That brings us to the news from our father," Elladan nodded as he picked up again. "We were sent here to deliver the sword and this message from Ada: Aragorn must take the Dimholt Road to the Paths of the Dead."

"That's not really a very nice place to be," I murmured quietly, shaking my head.

The Paths of the Dead was a depressing little passage through the White Mountains that led to Gondor. Centuries prior, Isildur had called on the Men dwelling in the Mountains to swear allegiance to him in the fight against Mordor (the big one that killed Gil-Galad), and they agreed to it. When the time came, though, they were a no-show, and they scuttled right up into the mountains where they remained for the rest of their lives, hiding from an understandably displeased Isildur. Isildur, not having any of that, put a curse on them that they would never rest again until the allegiance they'd sworn to him was fulfilled. Now the place was the stuff of legends and overly ambitious ghost tours. Not where I wanted anyone I was fond of to travel to, that's for sure.

"No, it isn't," Elrohir said with a nod, "but Gondor's forces are so vastly outnumbered that we need all the help we can get, and we cannot be above asking the Oathbreakers for help now."

I squinted at Elrohir. "What do you mean 'we,' kiddo?"

"Well, we'll be going with him," Elladan said brightly.

"Does your father know about this?" Glorfindel enquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah… not exactly," he mumbled in an attempt at off-handedness, "but he must have expected we would do it…"

"Or at the very least, that we intended to join in the war," Elrohir added quickly.

Glorfindel looked at me, and I sighed and shrugged at him.

"Oh, god, fine. But listen to me: if either of you are misleading us and you get killed in the process, I will personally have you resurrected so we can deliver you to your father, who will then kill you a second time," I waved a finger threateningly, Glorfindel nodding in agreement. The colour had drained from his face, likely as the prospect of having to explain to Elrond why we let his children partake in the biggest war in history crossed his mind.

That was good enough for the two of them, and Aragorn looked pleased as well.

"Right, well, now that that's sorted, let's try and get a bit more shut-eye, shall we?" I proposed. "Come on, kids."

Thankfully, most people were so hungover that we were able to get quite a few more hours of sleep. The last time I'd slept in until half past ten must've been when Glorfindel and I got married, so it had been quite some time indeed. That didn't bode too well for Gimli, though, who had been asleep so deeply out on the porch in the bright morning sun that he awoke to find his face was sunburnt.

"Tough break, Master Dwarf," I said to him sympathetically over breakfast. "Lucky you've got that huge beard to cover most of your face, I suppose."

Gimli grunted sadly as he piled his plate high with bacon and fried eggs.

Upon their finding out where Aragorn intended to go, Gimli and Legolas insisted on accompanying him. Aragorn, who had been looking even more broody than usual as he ate, seemed to be rather uplifted by that, and smiled as he accepted with thanks.

Aragorn and co. made themselves scarce for the next days to prepare for departure. It was something of a relief to have Aragorn partially offsite now, because it meant that we wouldn't be forced to witness any more of the spectacle that was Éowyn attempting to win his affections. In fact, as soon as my chance arose, I decided to take the poor girl aside and put her out of her misery, since Aragorn had apparently been too shocked to do it himself. Approaching her after lunch one afternoon, I asked her if she had a moment, which she confirmed that she indeed did.

"Indulge me in a stroll around the place then, if you will, my love," I requested. Éowyn, smiling but confused, obliged, and we took off around the grounds.

"Look, Éowyn, this is going to be rather awkward, but you're a smart girl and I know you'll appreciate the honesty," I began, rubbing my brow a little as I wondered how to proceed with this. She watched me curiously, not saying anything as she waited for me to continue.

"I'm not normally the type to speak up about this kind of thing, but I get the impression that you've got your eye on Aragorn."

Éowyn's face went the colour of a beetroot, and she started to incoherently stammer out some sort of a reply that jumped from confirmation to denial to total cluelessness. I gently put a hand on her shoulder to silence her.

"You don't have to tell me. It's none of my business. In case you do, though, I have a little information that you ought to hear."

She calmed down at this, and when her face had started to return to its normal hue, she gestured that I should proceed.

"Aragorn is betrothed to be married, so whatever interactions he has with you are intended to be strictly platonic. I can assure you he is not the type to flirt, and I cannot ever envision him breaking off his current relationship." I paused before quickly adding "you know, just in case you weren't sure what his interactions with you indicated- he's very friendly and it's easy to misinterpret with him," to spare the poor girl's pride a bit.

Éowyn took all this in and nodded tranquilly. "I see. How do you know all this?" she asked me.

"Ah, young Aragorn is my nephew," I replied with a smile. "You can be sure I know his mind very well."

"I trust your judgement," she assured me. "Not that it is any of my business, but to whom is Aragorn betrothed?"

"My niece, actuall—" I stopped mid-sentence as I realised how terrible it was, but it was too late. Éowyn stopped dead in her tracks and stared at me the exact same way Gil-Galad had when I spoke about my toothbrush.

"Listen," I said carefully as I held up my hands, "I can explain this."

Éowyn said nothing, watching me wide-eyed and putting her hands on her hips, wordlessly advising me that nothing less than a phenomenally good explanation would do right now.

"They're not blood relatives. Aragorn was fostered by Lord Elrond, the father of his betrothed. Arwen, her name is. They never met while he was growing up.

This seemed to improve the situation dramatically, but Éowyn was still in disbelief.

"He is betrothed to an Elf-woman?" she whispered in shock.

"One of the Half-Elven, actually," I said softly, aching a little as I said it. "The ones who can choose to turn away from the Elven immortality and live as Men."

"Oh."

"Mmm," I replied. "Like I said, this relationship is not expected to fail, especially not on Aragorn's part." I sighed sadly, before realising that in a moment of vulnerability, I had possibly said too much. Shaking my head, I quickly said, "Anyway, that's just between you and me, if you please, Éowyn. This is all purely for your own information in case you were wondering if my nephew was trying to win your heart."

Éowyn nodded firmly. "I understand. I had been wondering, to be truthful with you, so I do appreciate your telling me this. You can be assured that I will keep this all to myself."

"Jolly good. Well, in that case, if you don't mind, I had best go and get ready to make the journey to Gondor. I'll see you around, all right?" I clapped her on the shoulder amiably, and inclining my head at her, I headed off to get the show on the road.

Back at the Golden Hall, I found Glorfindel and we had made to speak to Théoden when Aragorn rushed in and shouted to get Théoden's attention.

"The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!"

Théoden didn't immediately react. He stood pensively for a while there, looking to be engaged in quite the battle of wills, before he nodded once.

"And Rohan will answer," he said firmly.

"Rad," I said with a grin. " In which case, no need to announce our departure. Good." I turned to Glorfindel. "Come on, gorgeous. Let's round up those troops and hit the road."

We were off early the next morning, Glorfindel's and my unit bringing up the rear for two very good reasons. First off, I had absolutely no desire to field another ten thousand questions about my tripper-upper from the delightful but unabashedly nosy Rohirrim.

The other reason we stayed behind the Rohirrim was because Glorfindel and I all too readily recalled the conditions under which our last visit to Gondor had ended. Even if we were doing Denethor a big favour coming to help, we didn't expect that he would be very appreciative of it. Let's be honest with ourselves here: the guy was a bona fide kook. He was equally as likely to suggest we use watermelons as suppositories as he was to accept our help, so we hoped that by sneaking in behind Théoden's huge rabble that we would go unseen.

Around halfway there, Aragorn and his gang of troublemakers splintered off to enter into a very uninviting-looking valley. Glorfindel and I didn't dare tell them to be safe, as it suggested there was a chance they wouldn't come out alive. Instead, we said we would see them shortly. They agreed with a nod, and that was that.

The collective mood on the rest of the way there was low. It was hard to tell if our recent victory had lost its shine for them, or if the upcoming battle was so hugely daunting that the win was the only thing keeping them from fleeing in panic.

When we arrived in Gondor, I got confirmation it was likely the latter of the two. The battle had already begun, and it was shaping up to be an absolute blowout. I couldn't even see where the end of the enemy forces was, they stretched on for so long into the distance, coming in wave after wave. There would have easily been a hundred thousand Orcs and other nasties trickling in like a wave of quicksilver in their iron armour, and the forces of Gondor and Rohan stretched forward in the other direction in their own wave of the same colour. The only way I could see where Sauron's stopped and ours started was the stripe of blood that ran through the middle of the scene, like some sort of macabre tricolour flag.

"Crumbs, that's a lot of enemies," I murmured quietly, setting the tripper-upper down a moment and putting my hands on my hips as I surveyed the throng ahead.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Glorfindel looking at me affectionately.

"Almost time for what we came for," he said with a smile.

A small grin spread over my face as I nodded. "Yep. Are we still on for meeting after I've toppled these supersized elephants?"

"Shall we say… hmm… up there on that platform there? Just near the White Tree?" he pointed at a huge courtyard inside the familiar white citadel.

"Brilliant. I shouldn't be too long."

Picking up the tripper-upper, I waved at Glorfindel and went straight to the front where Théoden was.

"We wait for this wave to finish, and then we ride," he informed me from up on his horse.

"Can I make a tiny suggestion?" I asked politely.

Surprised but ever the gentleman, he invited me to speak.

"Give me a ninety second head start."

His eyes widened. "By yourself? Surely you jest."

"Oh, I promise I don't. You'll see why." I felt a thrill of adrenaline rush through me as I looked ahead and saw that, most conveniently, our scheduled wave had the Mumakil at the front. If my hands weren't full, I'd have been rubbing them like a fly and cackling gleefully.

"Ninety, you say?" he repeated. He shrugged. "Very well. Ninety seconds it is."

"Ah, you're a good egg, Your Majesty. I appreciate it."

"Be careful, please, Rhodri," Théoden said, his brow furrowing a little.

"I'll do my best."

A minute passed before we slowly started advancing. A couple of minutes later and we were in position. I felt a nudge on my back, which turned out to be from Théoden.

"Your ninety seconds starts now," he said, seemingly attempting good humour but failing to even affect amusement as his brows knitted together.

I didn't need telling twice. I grabbed that tripper-upper and was out of there like a squirrel out of a slingshot. I must've looked a complete fool, running into this fray with what looked like a construction beam, screaming for people to get out of my damned way. When I made past the big red smear, I was almost in line with the Mumakil. I was almost close enough to shout at the enemies at that point and arrows started flying, so I didn't stick around, instead running lengthways along the blood river with the tripper-upper aloft. As I shot along, I approached the first mumak and braced myself for impact. Good thing I did, too, because those animals are _heavy_, and I hadn't factored in how much the small house they built on top of it would weigh, either.

Luckily, though, my crude tool did the trick. It was like an extreme form of cow-tipping. Its two right legs were knocked out from underneath it, and the mumak fell like a domino with a crash that sent me off the ground for a moment. I managed to avoid the arrows by switching up where I held the tripper-upper in my hands for the other mumakil. Sometimes I was in the middle, other times I shifted position to attack diagonally, approaching from the top right leg and ploughing through that way. Turns out that works well for sending mumakil to the ground, too, and I found myself roaring with laughter that this had all panned out so beautifully. Shame they'd only managed to rustle up about ten of these pachyderms, because it meant my moment of fun was over after a few minutes, unless they'd survived the fall.

I turned around to inspect my work, and found that none of the mumakil had gotten to their feet again, the Gondorian and Rohirrim forces swarming like wasps now. That was about the sum total of the utility of my tripper-upper in a war context, and grabbed one end of it and ran away, the rest of it dragging on the ground behind me so as to not accidentally knock allies off their horses as they ran forward.

At the edge of the citadel, I saw that the doors had been closed, so I stood with the tripper-upper and waved it like it was a glow stick. Glorfindel appeared to have seen me, because a huge group disappeared for a moment and emerged a minute later at the door in front of me. I quickly stepped inside and chucked the tripper-upper in there.

"If you could just look after that sucker for me for a while I'd be very much obliged," I said politely as it hit the ground with a clang. With a grateful wave, I sprinted back out to the battlefield with the troops, and round two of the fun started.

The slicing and dicing went on for some time, though oddly enough, it seemed to go much quicker this time around, despite how many more enemies there were. Perhaps it was because things seemed to slip into a sort of workaday lineup, the mumakil having been given the curtain call so early into the piece. Or maybe there were tons of enemy forces trapped under the mumakil's bodies.

Things started to pick up toward the end, though, oddly enough. A huge thing passed overhead that I didn't recognise. It looked a little like a dragon, but it had no scales and it screamed like an enraged toddler- not the sound one envisions for a mighty reptile.

Glorfindel, however, knew what it was and that it was here for business, not pleasure.  
"A fell beast!" he exclaimed.

We weren't able to get to it right away because of course, that was when a large influx of the usual chaff started coming up and harassing us. Just as we'd managed to get into the clear a little, though, the scream of a horse filled the air near us, and we turned in time to see said fell beast, pick up a horse in its mouth and shake it like a ragdoll before throwing it. To our horror, we saw that there had been a rider on that horse, but we still had a small way to go before we could get over there to try and help.

A minute later, we could see that none other than Merry and Éowyn, who must have ridden into the fray in secret, were up against the wannabe dragon and whatever was riding it. In one smooth motion, Éowyn swiped with her sword and sliced the head clean off the fell beast, which hit the ground with a thump.

"Christ, that's one of the wraiths," I said to Glorfindel urgently.

"The Witch-King, no less," he gasped at me.

We managed to break free from the rabble and ran for them, hoping we'd reach them before they incurred any serious injuries. Just before we could get there, though, Merry had dug his blade into the leg of the Witch-King.

Éowyn stood tall and proud, the sun lighting her up like she was made of fire, and roaring, "I AM NO MAN!" she thrust her blade straight into the Witch-King's face.

The wraith let out a horrible screech, crumbling to the ground as what was left of its robes lay smoking.

"YEAH, SISTER, YOU KNOCK THAT BASTARD OFF!" I yelled, throwing a triumphant fist in the air. "THE FUTURE IS FEMALE, BITCHES!"

"Rhodri, the rider," Glorfindel reminded me urgently.

"God, yes, that's right," I murmured. We ran over and stopped dead when we saw who it was.

"Oh no," Glorfindel whispered. "Not Théoden."

Now it was my turn to cover my mouth. Théoden was white as a sheet, and completely trapped under his horse. As Glorfindel made to run to him, I stuck out an arm and held him in place, shaking my head. He seemed to have forgotten that humans are far less hardy than Elves, especially ones of Théoden's age.

"There's no coming back from that. Let them have a moment."

A sudden, wretched scream from Éowyn and we knew that it was over.

Before we could hang our heads sadly, my three nephews plus Gimli and Legolas materialised, also pausing in their tracks as they realised what had just transpired.

Like weak magnets, we slowly drew to each other, the huge battlefield almost entirely bereft of life now.

Éowyn was looking quite poorly, and when I went to her, I could see that her arm had been badly broken and was bleeding fairly heavily.

"Who here can set bones?" I asked them. Aragorn hurried over and apologising as sweetly as he could, put the bone back into place with a painful crunch that had her screaming and Merry retching. _He_ didn't look in very good shape, either, and bothwere in serious need of medical assistance.

I picked up Éowyn, and as Aragorn grabbed Merry, we all made our way into the city to catch the eye of a physician and plan our next steps.


	75. Preparation A

The inside of Minas Tirith looked like Mr. Bean had tried to paint it red with a blindfold on. I felt terrible for even thinking it to myself when I knew what had gone on, but I was numbed to what had gone on. Truth be told, I wasn't cut out for war, and I knew it. Not many people were truly killing machines, but I felt myself to be particularly ill-suited for it, and it was starting to wear me down.

My own family had been so staunchly anti-war and gentle that the concept of any sort of violence horrified us. I shuddered to think what my mother and father would have thought had they known I was a decorated war general now.

Emotions slowly started to churn in me as we got deeper and deeper into the citadel and reached the medical wing. Misery. Helplessness. Guilt. Horror. Though not very religious myself, as if on autopilot, the cruciform prayer, etched into my mind after years of performing the Anglican rosary first at church and then at my grandparents' graves, looped through my head.

_Holy God,_

_Holy Almighty,_

_Holy Immortal One,_

_Have mercy upon me._

"Rhodri, what are you whispering?" Glorfindel asked me, reaching up to my face and brushing a tear away from it.

I breathed in sharply. I hadn't realised I was speaking aloud. Or that my eyes were leaking. Now that I was aware of it, though, I also noticed my diaphragm start to contract, the water seeping out of my eyes strongly now. The urge to give into my grief was almost too much, but I just managed to steady myself by coughing a couple of times into my shoulder. This was no time to cry.

"Just a few words I used to say when it's been a trying day," I said with a small, calm smile.

"I've never heard you use those ones before," he replied, watching me with concern.

"Never felt the need to until now, really." I shrugged only with my shoulders, trying not to disturb Éowyn as I walked over to a free bed and gently set her down on it. A physician came over to her, and our work was done there.

As we left the hospital wing and found ourselves in an unblemished corridor, Olórin came in from the other direction along with Mr. Éowyn, both looking incredibly grave. At their request, we went into an antechamber and braced ourselves for yet another round of bad news.

"Frodo is out of my sight now," Olórin said finally. "Behind the walls of Minas Morgul, Sauron is regrouping."

"God, how many more in reserve does he _have?"_ I hissed in disbelief.

"Ah, forget him," Gimli said, waving a hand dismissively. "Why do we need to bother ourselves with him now?"

"Because Frodo and Sam are locked in there with another ten thousand Orcs, Gimli," Olórin said severely.

Gimli excused himself and mumbled something about "good reason."

"Then we need a distraction to draw out those forces," Aragorn said, striding around in agitated confidence. "Put us under Sauron's watch for a while!"

"We do not have the people or the supplies to come up against another ten thousand," Mr. Éowyn objected loudly.

"Not for ourselves, but we can march on the Black Gate and make enough of a diversion to give Frodo and Sam the chance to destroy the Ring. We have no other option, Éomer!" Aragorn returned urgently.

"Certain death, minimal odds of pulling it off," Gimli mused casually. "Well, we've had worse odds." He shrugged at us. Glorfindel and I shrugged back and nodded. That much was definitely true.

"Sauron won't fall for that," Olórin said, shaking his head.

An almost arrogant smile turned up Aragorn's mouth. "Oh, yes he will."

I didn't bother asking what Aragorn had done to merit this sort of surety, but he seemed to know what he was doing. A day later, we, along with Pippin, were back on the horses, riding out to Mordor. If I could have gone back in time to speak to myself as we made for Minas Tirith, the moment Then-Rhodri observed that the mood in the company was low, Now-Rhodri would have laughed scornfully and said something to the tune of, "Bitch, just you wait."

Luckily, even as we left our army a few metres back and rode up to the front door at Minas Morgul, I had no idea just how bad the odds looked, otherwise I think I would have evacuated every bodily entrance and exit all at once.

At the gate, Aragorn shouted out for Sauron to show himself.

Naturally, Sauron wasn't the type to do anything on his own, instead electing to send out a representative.

Our maître'd was a bloke on a horse who was covered from head to foot in tatty armour, the only part exposed being his unnaturally large mouth, which sported a set of gnashers you wouldn't have found in even the most confronting dentistry textbooks. They were discoloured, frighteningly long, and sharp as razor blades, looking even scarier when the mouth was turned up in a semblance of a smile.

"Does anyone in this rabble have the authority, or even the intelligence to bargain with me?" the revolting creature asked. It pointed at Aragorn. "You, obviously, do not. It takes more than an exile with a reforged blade to be a king."

"Rude," I murmured.

"We have no intention of bargaining with you, loathsome wretch," Olórin replied coldly. "Tell your master that he is to disband his troops and depart Arda permanently."

Mr. Dentist's Nightmare seemed not to register any of that, instead riding up a little closer and saying, "Ah, Gandalf Greybeard. My master asked me to give you this."

He produced a shirt made of mithril chain, which looked to be about Hobbit-size, and threw it at Olórin, who caught it and inspected it with wide eyes.

"_No!"_ Pippin screamed from behind Olórin.

"Silence!" hissed Olórin, his temper flaring as he caught sight of the Mouth of Sauron's broadening smile.

"Ah, I see he was dear to you. Well, you should know that he suffered immensely before his death. We made sure of that."

Pippin clutched his arms around Olórin as he struggled to get a hold of himself.

Surprisingly, Aragorn, usually the most equanimous of us all, had had enough. He calmly rode forward until he was nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with him, and before anyone could react, Aragorn had already drawn his sword and decapitated Sauron's sole welcoming committee member, hitting the ground with a loud _plop_.

"Well, that concludes negotiations," murmured Gimli. Just as he said it, a colossal set of double doors were thrown open, and masses of troops started to pour out.

"RETREAT!" shouted Aragorn at us, and as we quickly rode back over to our troops, at the front of the crowd, we saw Elladan and Elrohir sitting on their horses, waiting for us to come back over to them.

Glorfindel and I, both absolutely horrified, let out a string of obscene expressions that even made Olórin blush as we reminded the two of them (in a less-than-friendly tone) that they had been under strict orders to stay put in Minas Tirith.

"When have we ever done as we've been told?" Elladan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This isn't a game, you two!" Glorfindel admonished them both. "This is the absolute last stand, and we are not likely to make it back from this!"

"As though that is the first time we've heard _that _before," Elrohir retorted, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, you can't send us back now. It's too late for that, see?" Elladan pointed behind him, and he was right. It was too late. The enemy had now completely surrounded us.

At that moment, I finally saw how hugely outnumbered we were, and my insides went icy cold. I had a sword and two knives on my person, and that was it. No improvised Orc-Mower. No tripper-upper. I'd finally run out of options.

The circle started to close in on us. Aragorn dismounted his horse, and we all followed suit, knowing that there was no sense in riding the poor things to their doom like that.

My hand brushed up against Glorfindel's, and he quickly snatched mine up in his, turning to look at me with forced calmness.

"We'll do our best, beloved," he said with a small squeeze of my hand.

"Hah. I'll kill them all before they touch a hair on your head," I snarled. No way on god's green earth was Rhodri Fanshawe going down without a fight.

At that moment, the Eye of Sauron turned and fixed itself on us. I could hear it whisper to me and dismissed it with unreserved contempt. But we were doing what we had set out to do: divert Sauron's attention. If this was the moment Tulkas was preparing me for, I knew I was ready for it now.

The air was so tense you could've cut it with a knife, and it seemed to break loose as Aragorn shouted out, "FOR FRODO!" and started to run at the wall of enemies. With a similar shout, we broke into a sprint as well, blades at the ready.

There were all sorts of horrible things in that crowd. Orcs, Uruk-Hai, cave trolls. Fell beasts emerged from within Minas Morgul, Nazgul on their backs, screeching merrily. They were really in their element. Luckily, we were, too. Well, the location could've been better, but by criminy, we had our weaponised sassy pants on and were not to be trifled with. We were swinging and attacking for all we were worth, and through our efforts managed to eliminate quite a number of troops.

It was nowhere near enough for what we needed to be able to emerge unscathed.

Thankfully, after about half an hour of brandishing dangerous objects, a very loud bang issued from the top of Mount Doom, ringing out over the entire gorge and beyond. The Orcs and other nasties were most curious about the sound, and fear seemed to overcome them, almost without warning. Another huge boom came out, and as our enemies, now in a state of pure panic, started to flee, we looked up at the source of the noise. The tower, housing the Great Eye, had cracked at the middle and the Eye was in freefall, its pupil zipping in every direction frantically.

We stood there in awe of it all, the only one of us to speak being Pippin.

"He did it!" Pippin yelled joyfully. "Yes, Frodo! You did it!"

He barely had enough time to get that sentence out before one more huge explosion cracked through the air and under our feet. Divine chaos ensued as the remaining wraiths on their fell beasts fell out of the air like the beasts' wings had dropped. The ground opened up around us, swallowing the entirety of Sauron's armies in an instant.

We couldn't believe our luck. All those times I had done something embarrassing and hoped the earth would break open and suck me into the schism seemed to have been concentrated into an outcome that was much more to my favour. A deafening cheer erupted from us that was cut short when, with one more final crack, Mount Doom violently erupted, shooting lava high enough to scorch the moon.

The cheers evaporated in an instant, the only man-made noise above the din being Pippin's hysterical screams. I turned to the others to try and make sense of it all, but they were equally blindsided by the extreme bittersweetness of it all. My heart especially broke for Olórin, whose worst nightmare seemed to have come true from it all. He had hoped and fought so hard that the Hobbits would be left out of this whole disaster, and it had instead come to pass that the very people he had most tried to protect were the lambs on the altar. His hand covered his mouth, and tears were spilling out of his eyes as he started to break down into the most wretched sobs I had ever heard. As a number of us went to comfort him, a shadow came into the corner of my eye, and as I turned, I could see three of those huge birds that Olórin had been riding when he skedaddled out of Curumo's prison.

"Look!" I said to Olórin urgently as I shook his shoulder. Tear-stained, he looked up and caught sight of the eagles as well.

"Gwaihir," he murmured.

"Go. Check for them. There are lots of eminences up there that they could have climbed onto." I pushed him in the direction of the birds, who had settled on the ground near us, and Olórin broke into a sprint as he approached them. After a few words, he climbed onto the back of the biggest bird, and they all took off in the direction of the eruption.

"We need to get out of here," I said quickly to Aragorn. "The air around here is poisonous."

He nodded. The only issue was that we were marooned. The ground had opened all around us in a chasm that was about five metres wide, leaving us stranded in the middle like a freakish reverse doughnut.

I sighed. This was going to lead to so many questions later, but it had to be done. I strode over near the edge and called for everyone to make a nice, orderly queue. Everyone looked at me in confusion until Glorfindel bounded up, smiling excitedly and holding his arms out, knowing exactly what was coming.

"See you on the other side," I said with a wink as I put my hands on his waist and sent him sailing over the abyss and onto the other side where he landed gracefully.

All but Aragorn and co. stared at me like I'd just declared myself the new ruler of Mordor, but as Aragorn strode over, they fell into a line and one by one, I quickly but gently chucked them over. After fifteen or so minutes, only Gimli and I were left standing there. Gimli was a few feet away, watching all this happen with his arms crossed.

"Gimli, come on," I urged him, beckoning him over.

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf, Rhodri," Gimli said stubbornly.

I put my hands on my hips. "Gimli, you have three options: either I throw you over just like I did everyone else, I kick you over like a football, or you stay here and die. Which of them is it going to be?"

Gimli looked over at Legolas, who was standing on the other side, hands on his hips and fixing Gimli with an impatient look. Then he glanced up at me.

"Oh, all right," he relented snappily. "But do it nicely!"

I rolled my eyes and bowed to him before I put my arms out for him to stand between. Just as he stepped forward and my arms locked around him, I snapped him up and chucked him, shouting out "YEET!" as I did.

Landing on his feet, Gimli turned around and fixed me with the dirtiest glare he could muster, making the gesture with his finger that I had taught him days prior. I shot two fingers back at him and grinned broadly.

After sending the horses over as well, I realised that I was stranded there. I hadn't ever tried to jump long distances before, and even though I was fairly sure I could do it, I had absolutely no desire to partake in any risky behaviour after having miraculously made it out of all this.

I was about to shout for the others to make me some kind of a small bridge, or even hunt up a rope and haul me over that way, when I saw the birds flying overhead.

"Hey! HEY!" I shouted, waving my arms frantically at them. "Can you give me a lift? Just five metres, come on!"

To my relief, one of the eagles looped around and spiralled down toward me, grabbing me in its talons and dropping me over the other side. In those brief seconds, I saw that Frodo was in the clutches of the bird's other foot, and he looked alive. Landing on the ground on the right side of things, I gave the bird a thank-you wave and quickly told the others what I'd seen, and happy cheers, truly happy ones erupted through the whole crowd.

Glorfindel and I parted ways with Aragorn and the others shortly after that to lead our unit back to Imladris. I had expected the journey home to be rather jubilant and energetic, especially because we had miraculously managed to return with as many troops as we had set out with, but it turned out to be very quiet indeed. The overall feeling that pervaded was one of grim satisfaction, and to be sure, there was some happiness that this had turned out as well as it had, but it wasn't able to block out the resentment that any of this had had to come to pass in the first place.

That near-silence followed us all the way home, and it was only when the first glimpses of the familiar valley came into view that our collective gravity seemed to ebb a little. As we climbed the valley to the top of the hill, the mid-April afternoon sun on our backs, Elrond appeared in the courtyard. Elladan and Elrohir both let out a shout, dismounted their horses, and Elrond ran to them, snatching them to him and squeezing them tightly as he kissed them both. He no longer cared that the eyes of all the soldiers were on him, but now I did, and I turned to face them.

"Well done, all of you. You can go to your families now. A celebration will be held tomorrow. Rest for now," I said loudly and firmly. They knew that this was not a suggestion, but an order to depart the area and give Elrond some privacy in a moment of weakness. Glorfindel and I dismounted our horses, gave Elrond a quick nod, and each put a hand on his shoulders as we passed. He took both of our hands in his and made to start talking with us, but Glorfindel held up a hand.

"Later, meldir," he said gently. "Be with your children now."

"See you at breakfast tomorrow," I added with a small smile.

Elrond looked shocked for a moment, but then nodded. He put his arms around Elladan and Elrohir and steered them away with him, and we made for our own quarters.

For the first time in months, we were able to shed our clothes, now grimy and covered in all sorts of stains that we didn't dare think of. We washed twice, because the water in the first bath was so dirty and stank so badly of dried blood that it made our stomachs turn. By the second bath, we were cleansed sufficiently that we could pull on a set of fresh clothes.

"What do we even do for the rest of the day?" I asked Glorfindel as we stood by the door to our bedroom.

"I know we are dressed to go outside again, but to be honest with you, Rhodri, I am weary from these last months. All I want to do is sleep." He looked more tired than I had ever seen him, and I was sure I didn't look much better, myself.

"Same here. Now that the journey's finally over, we have the space to be tired. Let's just rest, then. We'll feel so much better when we wake up."

"Mmm," he agreed, a tiny smile lighting up his face.

With that, we changed into our pyjamas, crawled into bed, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted until the next day.

Thankfully, that sleep seemed to sort out the worst of the exhaustion from the war. Finally rested, I was able to start taking in details again, and I noticed during breakfast that Elrond looked somehow different. Something about his presence seemed a little less imposing. Certainly, he remained a most formidable Elf, and still showed every bit of the wisdom and grace that had convinced Gil-Galad to make him his viceregent in the first place. Now, though, the edge had been taken off him, like a layer of defence had been stripped away.

Over the next days, Glorfindel and I milled around together like satellites, walking around the grounds in silent admiration of the newly-awoken spring foliage. We didn't pursue Elrond but stayed close by, making it easy for him to snag us when he wanted company, though conversations had become complicated now.

Current events were painful for Elrond because Aragorn had, against all odds, managed to pull off what Elrond had asked of him and was days away from being crowned King of Gondor and Arnor. Naturally, this meant the wedding was going to go ahead, and when he was able to keep it together enough to finish his sentence, he informed us that we would be setting out for Gondor on the first of May. His talk of Arwen's wedding dress, of organising her possessions that were to be transported with us, of his own thoughts—all were too raw for him, and he would usually wince and brush away tears before giving up and changing topic.

For me, discussing the wars and aftermath remained painful. I hadn't been able to find a moment to properly process things, and my emotions had been bottled up, where I knew they would fester until I could find a safe, quiet place to deal with them alone. Nowhere seemed to be the right place or the right time, though, and so I found myself either swallowing hard or coughing when the topic was brought up, keeping the grief from flaring too badly. Similarly for Glorfindel, the sadness of the widespread loss had hit him hard, and though he coped with it all very well and remained optimistic, even he preferred to avoid the topic.

Arwen, it seemed, was also in a difficult situation herself. I had bowed out of Happy Hour the afternoon before we were due to set out, hoping to have a moment alone to start processing things away from everyone else. I'd shut the curtains, locked the door and shoved a rolled-up towel in the tiny gap between the door and the floor to ensure absolutely no sounds could slip out in case I really lost my cool. Sitting on the couch, I closed my eyes and started to slowly recount everything. I was making great strides, and the emotions were really starting to well up, a cathartic release so close I could almost taste it. My breath swelled, and my head felt like it was going to explode from the pressure, but finally, it could go somewhere.

Naturally, moments like that are when your statistical likelihood of being interrupted skyrockets, and the knock at the door that came at that critical moment was all the proof I needed of that. Dissolving into a coughing fit, I eventually creaked out, "Just a minute!"

Hauling myself to my feet, I knocked back a whole glass of water, took three deep breaths, kicked the towel out of the way, and opened the door.

"Arwen!" I exclaimed as she stood there, watching me worriedly. "Hello, sprout! Come in, come in." I ushered her inside and poured her a glass of water.

"Is everything all right, Auntie Rhodri? You look a little… overwhelmed," she broached cautiously.

"Oh, yes," I said with an airy gesture of dismissal. "Just taking it easy before we have to set out again, you know? I don't think I'll ever sit on a chair the same way again after all that time spent in the saddle." I winced a little at the prospect of spending half my life on a damned saddle again starting from tomorrow.

Arwen smirked at that before her expression became more business-like.

"Auntie, I need somebody to talk to."

"A psychologist somebody, or an auntie somebody?"

"A psychologist somebody, I think."

"Right," I said with a nod. I wasn't surprised. Out of Elrond and Celebrían's children, Arwen had always been the most like her father in temperament. Quiet, contemplative, deeply analytical and appreciative of dispassionate arguments.

After robbing five minutes of her soon-to-be mortal life with my End User Licence Agreement spiel, she signed the dotted line, and we could get started.

"So what's happening, Arwen?" I asked, taking out a piece of paper and starting to write the date at the top.

"I need advice."

"Oh?"

"I don't know how to behave any more."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"Now that Aragorn is to be crowned King of Gondor and Arnor, he's done what he needs to do. You know that. We're setting out tomorrow for the wedding."

"Mmm, I know that, too," I said with a nod.

"Now the mood has changed."

"Tell me about it?"

She sighed, mildly frustrated with herself. "I can't seem to talk with anyone any more. There are too many conflicting feelings that nothing I say or do seems appropriate."

"Who's experiencing the conflicting feelings?"

"Well, everyone, I would imagine," she replied, frowning a little.

"Who can you be sure is experiencing them?"

"Me, and Ada, I suppose. Elladan and Elrohir, too."

"That's hardly everyone," I pointed out politely.

"It's everyone I interact with frequently. I think you and Uncle Glorfindel probably have them as well."

"We do," I admitted. "Marriage is one of those events that does evoke a mixture of emotions, especially when it's someone you've watched grow up. And you know, of course, that your wedding in particular is liable to stir up some very strong emotions."

"I do, and that's the problem. I can't be outwardly happy or excited about it, and I don't want to be sad about it, either," she lamented, taking a sip of water.

"Is anyone forbidding you from being joyful about your forthcoming nuptials?" I asked her, scratching a note down on the paper.

Arwen raised an eyebrow. "No, of course not."

"So what's holding you back from sharing your delight, then?"

"Well, common decency, I suppose," she answered, looking bewildered now.

"So you don't want to express happy emotions about your forthcoming nuptials because you think it's rude to be happy when we're busy being sad about it? Have I understood you correctly there?"

"Rude, yes, but also unkind. Everyone seems to have taken it quite hard."

"Mmm, it has been quite a blow in some ways, it's true," I acknowledged. "So you wish to be kind by holding back on your outward joyfulness so that it spares us somehow?"

"Yes," she confirmed, looking a little relieved. "But now it's coming at a cost to me. I should be able to enjoy this time with you all, and I simply cannot."

"Do you feel that completely restraining yourself makes a very big difference in how well we will cope with this, Arwen?" I asked her as I looked up from my notes.

"I… I don't know," she said softly. "I am trying to make it all as painless for you as possible, but I seem not to be able to do anything right." The bitterness in her tone was evident, and she took another sip of water in what seemed to be an attempt to rebalance herself.

"Tell me, if we were to examine your responsibility to be mindful of others' feelings, where do you think it would end? At what point does the other party become responsible for controlling their own emotions, do you think?"

"I wish I knew," Arwen replied sadly.

"Well, let's look at it a different way. How likely is it that you'll go through with this marriage?"

"It is a certainty," Arwen said firmly.

"In which case, let me be frank with you here," I said, lacing my fingers together and leaning on my desk a little as I looked at her. "The hardest part about this for all of us is set in stone, and it is responsible for almost the entirety of our sadness. Short of breaking off the engagement and departing Middle-Earth with us, there isn't a thing you can possibly do to ameliorate our sorrows in that regard."

She looked away. My words seemed to have hit her hard, and she numbly adjusted her position in her seat before she forced herself to meet my gaze again.

"I see," she said stiffly.

"I think you already knew this in your heart of hearts, Arwen."

She nodded reluctantly, a glimmer of Celebrían's stubbornness making itself apparent.

"Now, with that said, what all of us want is for you to be happy. How we want that to happen for you is selfish, in that our baser selves would love for you to call it all off and high-tail it to Valinor to live forever and ever. But we still want you to be happy. And you're allowed to be."

"So how can I be?"

"Do you remember when your mother had to depart Middle-Earth?"

"Vividly," she murmured with a gentle sigh.

"You likely recall that there was a real flurry of emotions in the lead-up to her departure."

"I do."

"How about the relief you felt on her behalf, knowing that she would recover in Valinor?"

"Mmm, I do," she whispered. "It mingled quite strongly with the grief."

"What do you remember of how she was feeling?"

"She was much the same, I believe."

"Did she completely refrain from involving anyone in the process of her moving to Valinor? Packing her items, discussing logistics, planning ahead for times where you would be reunited?"

Arwen paused. "… No, she didn't."

"Did she conceal her relief that she was going to depart?"

"No."

"Did she make her relief apparent in a way that personally upset or offended you, that you felt was because she should have kept a lid on things?"

"Not at all," she shook her head fervently, sending her wavy black hair rippling a little.

"You've got good social prowess, you know, Arwen. If I can make a suggestion: follow your mother's example in this. Let yourself be happy. Make room for the suffering of others. Be sad when you need to be. And if it looks like we need space to be deal with our emotions, give it to us. More than that cannot be asked of you. Is that a fair deal?"

Arwen nodded slowly. "It is."

Outside, the dinner bell rang.

"How are you feeling now?" I asked.

"Better. I think I know what to do."

"Do you want to stay in here and talk about anything else?"

She shook her head. "No, I think that's everything for now. I had best go and eat and pack away the last few things before we set out tomorrow."

"Okay, kiddo. Come hunt me up if you need anything else."

The session at an end, I put her file away, got up, and followed my niece out of the office.


	76. Doubled dissolution

**Author's note:**

CW: discusses death and awful lot. Take it easy, keep at it with the fluids, and do something nice for yourselves! You're important and deserve kindness.

I was kicking myself for not having locked myself away and forced myself to start dealing with my emotions sooner. Especially since now that we were on the road to Gondor, I would have to wait for quite some time longer to do anything about it. Fortunately, it was going to be a fun time, which made for a rather pleasant sort of distraction in the interim.

The trip down went well. Arwen was in quite good spirits now, and with the same remarkable ability as her mother, seemed to innately know when to be joyful and when to be quiet. All told, I think it was what made the ride down bearable for her father and brothers. We made a detour and stopped in Lothlórien to pick up Galadriel and Celeborn, and then continued on.

I noticed that Galadriel, like Elrond, seemed to have had the teeth taken out of her imposing presence, and for the first time since I had met her, she seemed physically vulnerable. Despite that, though, she seemed much happier and calmer, and so did Celeborn. They were more like Elves and less like overworked, underpaid and underprivileged Valar. Their own sadness at their granddaughter's choice was as concealed as all their other sorrows, and they showed nothing more than a hint of weary resignation now as they smiled and indulged Arwen's need to excitedly converse about the wedding and life after that. Much to the relief of Elrond and the twins, that continued the rest of the way to Minas Tirith, giving them the breather they needed but had never dared ask for.

As we reached the familiar citadel again, which thankfully had been cleaned up for the occasion, we stopped close by to ready ourselves for the procession.

There was a whole rigmarole involved in delivering Arwen to Aragorn. We had on our nicest clothes, armed to the back teeth with fancy flags and bunting, and everyone had a particular order in riding our horses out to the courtyard where the White Tree sat. Elladan and Elrohir came first, bearing the silver banners of Elrond's house. Glorfindel and I followed with Erestor and other members of Elrond's house who had come for the occasion. Then came Galadriel and Celeborn, as grave and beautiful as ever, and finally Elrond with Arwen. Very formal, fancy business.

The locals were all dressed in their Sunday best as well, and had flocked behind us to the courtyard, where Aragorn stood, looking the most regal and noble I had ever seen him. Also the most bathed I'd seen him in a while, too, which was something of a relief. We parted to form a guard of honour as Elrond walked up with her, stopping when he was flush with Glorfindel and me at his side. Aragorn's face, serious and authoritative, softened when he saw Arwen come out from behind the banner that had obscured her face.

Arwen paused, looking up at him, and seemed almost afraid to take a step forward. She turned to look at her father nervously, waiting for something.

Whatever she'd been waiting for came when Elrond said softly, "Go to him," nodding a little. A smile spread over her face as she looked ahead again, a certainty about her that couldn't be undone now, and she walked up to Aragorn.

Nobody else heard it, I'm sure, but Glorfindel and I both heard a small whine escape from Elrond as he bit hard down on his lips, blinking furiously. One of his hands reached up to his chest and clutched a little at his robes, and had ceremony not forbidden us from doing anything, we would have stood either side of him and held him upright.

Olorin apparently had some sort of competency as a wedding officiant or a judge, because he officiated the ceremony. I'm ashamed to admit that Glorfindel and I paid almost no attention to what was being said at the ceremony. We both had our attention fixed on Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir, watching carefully as if guarding them.

_"He's weakened now," _I murmured to Glorfindel in my head.

_"Mmm. So is Galadriel."_

_"And Olórin. I don't know how Elrond is going to handle this."_

_"I think our time in Middle-Earth is drawing to a close, beloved."_ He flicked his eyes up at me tenderly for a moment and slipped his hand into mine.

_"I think you might be right. Until we depart, though, we need to watch Elrond closely."_

_"What about Elladan and Elrohir?"_

_"To a far lesser extent, but yes, them too. But I'm particularly worried for Elrond."_

Glorfindel squeezed my hand, and I immersed myself in the comforting deep blue of his eyes as I looked over at him. _"So am I."_

_"I know we were going to take that long trip around Middle-Earth after all of this had blown over, but I don't think we're going to manage it now."_

_"Not unless we want to let Elrond make the trip to Mithlond alone."_

_"We couldn't possibly,"_ I shook my head almost imperceptibly.

_"No, it isn't an option, really."_

We were jerked out of our conversation by rousing applause and looked up just in time to see Aragorn kiss Arwen, her father and brothers struggling intensely to maintain their composure now.

"And now, the Houses of Elrond and Elendil are joined!" Olorin announced loudly over the din, a broad smile on his face.

The night's feasting and dancing went by in a blur, too. It was quite possibly the first party in living memory where Glorfindel and I weren't energetically ricocheting between food and dance and people, instead opting to be in fairly close proximity to Elrond. There was a point where his composure was going to give way, and if we knew Elrond (we did), it was certain that he didn't want to be left by himself when it did. For all his intense bouts of introversion, when he was really upset, he did terribly without someone there with him.

Though he never gave any outward sign of it, we knew Elrond didn't enjoy a minute of that party. The pleasure of Arwen's happiness had been Elrond's to cherish with her while we were out fighting, as they went through the Ada-Arwen list, ticking the things off. Now was nothing more than a time of parting for him.

Even so, though, he was as devoted to his daughter as ever, and put on every fake smile he felt necessary, let himself be led off to dance with her whenever she wished, and did everything he could think of to make it as wonderful for her as possible. He didn't take his eyes off her the entire night, watching for any cue that she wanted something he could give her or do for her.

For everyone else, though, this was a shindig of titanic proportions. The music and dancing went like a storm the whole time, with a lavish and very well-stocked banquet that supplied more food, drink, and wedding cake than I had ever seen in one sitting. People were going absolutely off their tits with this one.

And then things started to crash. As in all Elven (or mixed-Elven) weddings, the happy couple eventually slunk off to marry each other's brains out, and the festivities began to draw to a close. The guests mostly being Men meant that the party tapered off far earlier than any of ours might have, and many attendees had already left by that time.

After checking that Elladan and Elrohir were well enough (they were conversing happily with Olorin), we watched Elrond get up and go to the door. He glanced at us once, and then quietly slipped out of the hall. With a nod to each other, Glorfindel and I went out after him and saw him slowly wander down the corridor in the direction of his accommodation.

Quickly, we strode up to him and matched his pace.

"Would we be right in assuming you might like some company?" I asked him mildly.

No words came out of him in reply, but he reached his hands out and gently grabbed onto one of our wrists each.

"Understood, meldir," Glorfindel said, shifting Elrond's hand so that it wrapped around his own.

"We're not going anywhere, don't worry," I assured him quietly as we strolled on together in silence.

In Elrond's room, Glorfindel shut the door behind us, and we led him over to the couch and sat him between us, each putting an arm around him and holding him tightly.

"It's done," he whispered numbly.

We nodded. "It is," Glorfindel confirmed.

"She will die?" he glanced up at us fearfully, already knowing the answer but watching us entreatingly, begging us to tell him differently. His silver eyes were wide and glittered as the tears collected up and started to run out onto his cheeks.

"One day, after a long and happy life, yes she will," I nodded. "I'm so sorry, old darling."

Elrond seemed to collapse into himself and covered his face with one hand, the only noise being the gentle rush of air as it escaped him. He drew in a shuddering breath and held it, trying to pull himself together.

"Don't keep this in you, meldir," Glorfindel said gently, shaking his head as we rubbed his back.

And that was it. The floodgates went down, and Elrond really lost it. He sobbed and wailed and choked and gasped until long after the sun had risen. He was even more tortured than the day Celebrían was brought back from the Redhorn Pass. A couple of times, we had to hold his hands away from his head because he started to dig his nails into his skin enough to break the flesh. The only words he managed to get out the entire time were, "I can't… I simply cannot…" which came out periodically, and had my stomach turning as I threw my mind back to Celebrían beseeching her fëa to stay in her body. He showed no signs of stopping even after lunchtime the next day, and we Glorfindel and I realised this would probably not cease on its own. Luckily, we'd come prepared for that.

"Elrond, you need to sleep awhile, all right?" I said to him, patting his back firmly to get his attention. "Elrond? Look up at me, meldir."

Elrond slowly brought his head up and looked at me, and I got such a fright from his face that I nearly jumped. He had presumably burst some blood vessels in his eyes from crying so hard, and the blood red sclera against the silver of his irises made him look like something out of a horror movie. The rest of his face was a deep red, almost purple.

"You need to sleep now, Elrond," I said in a voice of forced calm, locking my gaze on his slanted brows instead of his eyes. "We've got something here that's going to send you right off. We'll be here when you wake up."

I plunged my hand into the pockets of my robes, pulled out a small flask of the shimmering purple sleeping tincture and poured some into the drinking glass that sat by his washbasin, handing it to Glorfindel to administer.

"Here we go, meldir," he said tenderly, bringing the glass to Elrond's lips. "Easy does it, drink it down and off to sleep for a while."

He whimpered between sips but eventually managed to drain the glass, proceeding to crash within seconds. As his head began to loll forward, I held him steady while Glorfindel slipped off his outer robe and hung it up. We didn't bother to pull the sheets back on his bed this time. We weren't game to tuck him up and leave him alone now after hearing him talk the way he did, judging the risk of death by grief to be high enough to warrant intervention. Instead, we both sat on the couch, keeping a quiet, private vigil as Elrond slumbered deeply.

_"If he doesn't show substantial improvement by the time he wakes up, we will need to either force him to accept psychological help, or drug him and send him to Valinor."_

Glorfindel squeezed my hand and nodded glumly. _"There isn't much more we can do than that."_

I looked up at Glorfindel. _"This is a nightmare."_

Another nod.

I reached out my free hand and stroked Glorfindel's face. I was lucky enough to have the tools to emotionally detach, handle Elrond at arm's length as though he were another of my clients. Intense psychological distress was notably not in Glorfindel's domain at all, and though he had done admirably in caring for Elrond in his time of need, it had been a huge strain on him, and he looked terribly shaken up.

_"Take a break for a while, beloved. Go for a walk, feel the sun on your face. Have something to eat and drink."_ I nodded encouragingly.

_"I don't want to leave you alone like this," _he shook his head, but his eyes flicked to the door before he could stop himself.

_"Don't worry about me. This kind of thing is my bread and butter. If you can fetch me my backpack, I'll be more than fine on my own for an hour or two."_

Glorfindel scanned me carefully, seeming to search for some kind of facade of bravery and nobility. Finding nothing and asking me several times if I was sure, he eventually accepted, and once he had brought in my backpack from our chambers down the hall, he departed with a small wave.

By the time Glorfindel had returned, I'd made it halfway through the Star Trek novel I'd found at the bottom of my bag.

_"How did your walk go? Did you have something to eat and drink?"_

Glorfindel nodded. _"It was a very solitary sort of experience. Not many were awake, even now, and those who were didn't seem to be in a fit state to talk much. They all looked… very unhappy."_

I bit my lip as I stifled the urge to giggle a little. The Elves' descriptions of and reactions to the concept of a hangover were comedy gold.

_"They'll be fine once they've had a little more to eat and drink, don't you worry,"_ I assured him.

_"I hope so. Speaking of which, you ought to take a small pause, now, yourself. I feel much better now."_

_"Maybe I will. I wouldn't mind stretching my legs a little. I'll be back in an hour or so, then."_ I stood up. _"Oh, and I packed a novel in my bag for you as well. Or you can try reading the one I brought, if you're feeling game."_

Glorfindel picked up my book and inspected the cover. _"Star Traik Voh-yah-gurr."_ He frowned. _"What is Voh-yah-gur?"_

_"The name of the ship there,"_ I pointed at the huge spacecraft depicted on the front cover.

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. _"That is a ship? This must be some sort of fantastical work. Where would one even find the wood to make a vessel of that shape?"_

I shrugged. _"Dunno. I'm not a shipbuilder. Anyway, I'll leave you to it for a while. Happy reading!"_ I shot him a wink and strolled out.

Strolling out. What a rookie error. Elrond's room had been quite dark, and I found out the hard way that it was still bright outside. I groaned as the light seemed to penetrate through my eyes all the way into the darkest recesses of my brain, holding up an arm in front of me a moment as I waited to adjust.

Once I felt fit to carry on, I decided to pay a visit to the dining hall to see if I could hunt up anything to eat or drink. After wandering around lost for many minutes, I finally found the place, and knocked back a glass of water and ate a couple of lovely, sweet oranges. Satisfied, I started walking the halls to try and find my way back to Glorfindel when I ran into a very loved-up looking Arwen and Aragorn, pacing the halls arm-in-arm. Catching sight of me, they beamed and beckoned me to come over and speak with them, which I did.

"How are things, Your Majesties?" I asked with a small smile. "Are you happy?"

"Immensely joyful," Arwen replied, practically glowing.

"More than I'd thought possible," Aragorn murmured, a hint of pink in his cheeks as he looked at Arwen lovingly.

"That's the shot," I gave them the thumbs-up.

"Is everything all right, Auntie? We didn't see you or Uncle or my father at breakfast," Arwen said. "In fact, we haven't seen a trace of any of you today until we ran into you just now," she added worriedly.

"Your uncle and I are fine. We didn't come out today because your father is a little unwell at present, but we're handling it quite fine."

Arwen and Aragorn both looked at me in grave concern.

"Unwell?" Aragorn repeated.

"Walk with me and I'll do a little explaining," I bid them. Aragorn flanked my left side and Arwen my right, and we slowly strolled the empty corridor together.

"I'm not sure whether you know it or not, but your father was the bearer of one of the three Elven rings of power. His was Vilya, and it gave him a lot of extra power and strength to withstand the encroachment of evil from the east."

They looked surprised.

"Ah, you did not. Well, now you know. Your grandmother also held one, Nenya, and Narya was given to Mithrandir years ago by Círdan the shipwright. Now that Sauron's ring has been destroyed, the others have been stripped of their power, and it has left the bearers weaker as a result. You've only known them when they had the rings, not before. That sudden loss of power is… well, it's taxing on the spirit. He's tired."

I looked at them carefully, wondering if I dared continue. They watched me expectantly, and I decided I did dare.

"And of course, the wedding was a goodbye of sorts as you both move into legitimate adult lives and leave the last of your childhood behind you. Hard stuff for a parent. We won't go into the mortal-immortal discussion, but you know that plays a role, too," I glossed quickly. Aragorn winced, but Arwen's face was unchanged, and she nodded.

"Can we do anything?" Aragorn asked.

I shook my head. "This is the moment where he needs some space to recover. He's asleep right now. I gave him a large draught of sleeping elixir around lunch time, which is why you haven't seen him yet. We'll see how he is when he wakes up, but I will be honest with the two of you: I don't see him staying long in Middle-Earth now."

"How long?" Arwen whispered.

"I can picture him setting sail within a couple of years."

My estimate looked to have rammed them in the guts, but with a knowing glance at each other, they settled down again quickly.

"Not much to be done for it, my loves, I'm afraid," I said with a shrug. "This is your time now, and it's up to you to drain every bit of joy out of it. You're off to a great start. Just be there for each other, you know? And you know that Uncle Glorfindel and I will take good care of him and Elladan and Elrohir. They'll be all right."

That was only a half truth. I was sure that Elrond would reach some sort of baseline happiness again one day, but I knew that was a long way off. But what good would it do telling them that this had been the traumatic cherry on top of a whole heap of other traumatic events that now risked snapping the already tenuous link between his soul and body? What could they do? It was all too late for any of that now. Heaving around that kind of guilt was no way to start a marriage.

To look the part, I slowly turned my mouth up into as genuine a smile as I could muster, my brain reminding me to crinkle my eyes a little to look convincing. They smiled back uneasily, seemingly not confident in much at all at that moment.

One terrific approach I've learned over the years is that when someone has shaky confidence, giving them a small, manageable goal works wonders. It's that whole single step in the journey of a thousand miles sort of concept. One inch of progress is enough to get things going. I decided that that was what Aragorn and Arwen needed after hearing what was a very confronting set of truths.

"There is one thing you can do for him, actually," I said.

That had the desired effect. The two of them looked at me intently, practically straining their ears to make sure they didn't miss anything.

"He hasn't eaten since yesterday. Can you both take me to a place where I can find some easy-to-digest foods that can sit out in the open for a while? Maybe some fortified wine, too, to help the food go down."

The nodded immediately and turned me around as they quickly escorted me to the kitchens. I helped myself to some bread, butter, some grapes, and a small bottle of port.

"These should do nicely," I said to the two of them. "I'll take these back to him now. Have this evening for yourselves, and your uncle and I will try to have him out for breakfast tomorrow morning, all right?"

They nodded gently, a little more mollified, and with a small wave, I left them and headed back to Elrond's room.

Inside, Elrond was still asleep. Glorfindel looked up from his novel and smiled softly at me.

_"Did I miss much?"_

_"Nothing at all. He hasn't moved from that position since you left."_

I glanced at Elrond, lying still on his back, head slightly off to one side on his pillow.

_"He hasn't moved from that position since we put him out."_ I raised an eyebrow.

I wandered over and placed the food and wine on Elrond's dresser and threw a teatowel over them to keep the bread soft before taking a seat beside Glorfindel. _"I ran into Aragorn and Arwen in my travels."_

_"Oh, yes?" _Glorfindel closed the novel, using one of his long fingers as a bookmark as he put an arm around me. _"What did they have to say for themselves?"_

_"They were worried for Elrond."_

_"You didn't tell them, did you?"_ his eyes widened in surprise.

_"In part, yes I did. Enough to know that he wasn't well, and that he needed time to recover and was in good hands with the two of us. Be assured," _I looked at him calmly as his shock grew, _"I didn't mention any life or death concerns. As far as they know, he is having a hard time presently, and that he may make for Mithlond in a few years."_

Glorfindel's brows knitted a little, and I could hear him comb his thoughts for any information that would decide whether that had been a wise move on my part.

_"They'll find out that much anyway, if they didn't already know. I'm fairly sure they did, though. It's important to tell them, beloved."_ I put my hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze to stir him out of his thoughts. _"They knew there were consequences. They can't be shielded from them all. Especially if Elrond deteriorates and must depart Imladris without much notice. He won't be back down in Gondor to say goodbye before he leaves. They need to make sure they say everything that has to be said while they are certain to have the chance."_

After a moment, Glorfindel nodded sadly and set the book down, losing his page as he used his other hand to press me against his chest.

We sat like that for a long, long while. Long enough that Glorfindel's breathing slowed right down into the deep, rhythmical inhalations and exhalations of slumber. I sat up and moved Glorfindel so that he stretched across the length of the sofa, his head in my lap, and I cracked open my novel again.

When I was a few pages off completing the book, Elrond started to stir. Not even mildly surprised it had happened at that point, I put the book back in my bag and sat up, waiting for him to come to.

Drowsily, Elrond heaved himself upright and blinked slowly as he took in his surroundings. The whites of his eyes, I saw to my intense relief, were white again, and he squinted in confusion as he stared at Glorfindel and me.

"What… ah… what are you doing in my room, you two?" he asked as he tried and failed to stifle a yawn.

The noise woke Glorfindel, who sat up and swung his legs over the side of the sofa as though he had been sitting upright all along.

"You know us, Elrond. We just _love_ watching you sleep," I retorted with a puckish grin.

He was apparently not awake enough to detect the sarcasm in my voice, and his looked at us agape.

"I'm kidding, I swear," I said as I held up my hands. "You weren't doing very well last night, and we were afraid to leave you alone."

I immediately regretted saying anything. His face went from bewildered to devastated as the memories of yesterday stampeded back into his head and broke his heart all over again. I felt Glorfindel's body stiffen beside mine, his shoulders bunched up as he fearfully awaited a violent reprisal of yesterday's events.

Standing up, I led Glorfindel with me as we sat on either side of Elrond on his bed. Elrond stared at his knees, lips trembling as his eyes filled with tears again.

"Elrond," I said gently. "How about we take a little walk and then go and get some breakfast? Arwen will be there, and I think she's looking forward to seeing you."

Drying his eyes on his sleeve, Elrond nodded and let himself be helped to his feet.

After taking a stroll through the gardens, examining what vegetables were ready for harvesting, we set our course for the dining hall, where sure enough, Arwen was waiting for him nervously with Aragorn. They'd been sweet and saved us seats as well, and we plopped ourselves down with Erestor.

Mercifully, the conversation flowed easily, if a little on the shallow side and for a short, blissful spell, we pretended that all was right with the world.


	77. Stopping and starting

**Author's ****note:** CW: Death, funerals, vague adult theme at the end. Be safe out there! And in ya domicile, too! Just be safe in general, ok?

Also, **earthdragon: **I'm tempted to give parkin a try now, though I can't eat sugar (or syrups made from sugar, so no treacle), gluten, or oats, so I'm wondering how I'm going to make it work. I'm sure if I start trawling the internet, I'll find some weird paleo thing that claims to be similar to the genuine article. I like your description, though! Your version does sound very moreish. I'll have to ask you to enjoy some for the both of us. Ugly job, but I trust that you'll handle it with good humour. :P

§

We didn't return to Imladris straight away. Along with the wedding celebrations, we had also travelled down for the state funeral of King Théoden. The departure date for Edoras came two weeks after the wedding, and Elrond, still hanging by a thread, managed to keep it together to cram in as much quality time with Arwen as he could, now seeing for himself that the very last days together with her had finally come.

I tried not to think about the fact that Théoden had died almost five months prior and it was high summer now, instead contenting myself with the idea that the Rohirrim had extremely advanced mortuary practices which had preserved him better than permafrost. Thankfully, Théoden had been placed in a marble sarcophagus, the lid being carved in his likeness, depicting him peacefully sleeping, so I never did find out how true that was.

The ceremony itself seemed more like what I had been used to seeing in the UK. Elven funerals were terrifying and haunting because death was so unnatural to them, but among Men, a funeral was a gut-wrenching acknowledgement of the cyclical nature of the mortal life. Unwelcome, certainly, but always expected.

The Rohirrim were all in black, gloved and shod and often covering their hair, both men and women alike. The Elves didn't actually possess any robes in true black, the colour being considered an unnatural one for clothing and too similar to what Sauron and co. tended to get about in. It was the only colour the Elves eschewed wearing. Fortunately, there were plenty of navy blue garments floating around, which was what Glorfindel and I ended up packing for Elrond and the twins. By my judgement, the colour was near enough as damnit was to swearing and was certainly better than turning up in bright red or lime green.

The entire thing lasted a few hours from beginning to end. The eulogies were long and grand, each speaker beginning their own oration by going through the entire list of Théoden's royal ascendants before proceeding. Eventually, the sarcophagus was wheeled out of the hall and we followed it to where he was to be interred. When he had been lovingly put into place and the door to his crypt and fresh dirt shovelled atop it, a distraught Éowyn sang a dolorous but magnificent dirge which hardly left a dry eye among the Men.

Following the burial, everyone made their way back up to the Golden Hall of Meduseld, which had been set up now for a very lavish wake. Rivers of alcohol and plates piled high with meats (a comestible strictly for special occasions due to its scarcity) burgeoned on the tables.

As people started to pile up their plates and goblets and mugs had been charged with drinks, Mr. Éowyn, apparently the new king, rose to his feet. He stood at the head of the table with his goblet. As with all the other speakers, he went through Théoden's lineage before reaching him, after which he gave a short and heartfelt toast to the man himself. We toasted and drank as well, and as we went to resume activities, he continued. Everyone halted and looked up, quickly setting their knives and forks down.

"Though this may be a day for sadness, I know that my uncle (aha! He WAS Mr. Éowyn! Literally!) would have wanted the glad tidings to be announced on such a day as this as well." He gestured for Éowyn to stand, and as she did, he also beckoned to a sandy-haired fellow who made me do a double-take. I was so sure I'd just seen Boromir stand up, and for a second, my heart swelled as the thought hit me that this had all just been a misunderstanding. Boromir was alive and well. There he stood, following Éowyn around. A small mercy.

"I wish to announce with great joy that my sister, my Éowyn, is betrothed to Faramir, son of Denethor and Prince of Ithilien!"

My jaw dropped and I was battered with several emotions at once. It hurt getting whacked with the reality stick and returning to the world in which Boromir was indeed dead, but I was also curious and happy as well. So this was Faramir! He had his brother's kind face, and though he was a little more shy than Boromir was, he was sweet and attentive to Éowyn, who had the broadest smile on her face that I'd seen. Relief also came into the picture thick and fast as I realised that she had well and truly moved on from Aragorn. To her credit, she completely refrained from all attempts to win Aragorn over (not that any would have worked) once I'd spoken with her, but it was lovely to know she wasn't still pained over it. Applause rang out through the hall as everyone got to their feet and cheered. All in all, a most happy conclusion to an otherwise miserable day.

That night, we celebrated joyfully, the bitterness creeping in only occasionally as we celebrated the life of Théoden, and the life to be for Éowyn and Faramir. All was happening as it should be. For them, at least.

The last stop together was at Isengard, oddly enough. All of the Fellowship members had been present throughout all these proceedings, and Aragorn had announced that he would escort them that far as they all started to make their homeward journeys. I would have thought a more pleasant place to have a breakup party would have been somewhere like Edoras, but then, I suppose the mission hadn't been known for being enjoyable. Some people were just gluttons for punishment.

Of all the places Elrond could have said a fond but painful goodbye to Arwen, this was probably the least suitable, but they had said so many goodbyes now that I supposed it hardly mattered where they did it this time around.

It hadn't hit me until we reached Isengard that this was also where I would be saying my goodbyes to them as well. No more 'Come by and see me if you need anything.' No more casual visits to thrash me in checkers, or camping trips. No more watching them grow and mature. This was it. As I went over to Aragorn, he stood tall, looking at me with his gentle, benevolent smile.

"Well, sprout, you've done awfully well," I said to him, reaching up and patting his cheek. "I'm so proud of you. I know you're going to do a marvellous job as king, and you'll be teaching your kids to play checkers as well as you do, I'm sure."

His smile broadened as he took me into an embrace. "Take care of yourself, and take care of Arwen for us, too, all right?" I whispered as I held him tightly to me.

We broke the embrace and he took a deep breath, nodding at me firmly. I smiled. "We'll run into each other again soon enough."

"Do you know that for sure?" he murmured, a hint of fear in his eyes for a moment.

"Oh, yes," I said calmly. "When the world comes to an end, we'll all be lumped in together at last, and you'll never have a moment's peace again. Enjoy the short period of quiet for now." I winked at him, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and cleared my throat as we stepped away from each other.

Arwen and I met in the middle, and she took my hands in hers, smiling serenely.

"Ready for an adventure, kiddo?" I asked genially, swinging our hands back and forth.

She nodded, and the smile widened from ear to ear.

"You look ready." And she did. She looked excited, a little nervous, and full of eager anticipation. As I looked into her quicksilver eyes, though, I saw that the characteristic sparkle of the Elves was gone. The light of endless vitality had been extinguished, her sundial having been replaced with an hourglass. She was ready whether she wanted to be or not.

Fortunately, Arwen interpreted what I had said in the positive way and pulled me into an enthusiastic hug.

"Enjoy every bit of it, honeybun," I said as I squeezed her back. "Get out camping as often as you can manage it. I expect you to find a few interesting new constellations down there, hmm?"

"Naturally," she said with a smile. She didn't bring up the prospect of meeting again, and neither did I. She knew it would happen someday, but for now, she had a brief period in which to cram a whole life, and the true weight of mortality was far from reaching her yet.

As I parted from her, coughing a little, I stood to the side and waited for the end of the greetings from everyone. The last ones to come through were Elladan, Elrohir, and finally Elrond and I looked away, hoping to afford them some small privacy.

Aragorn and Arwen left us there. They had to be the ones to leave, because I'm sure Elrond wouldn't have done it of his own volition. We stood there silently with him for some fifteen minutes, his eyes fixed on the two of them as they rode away under the early afternoon sun. Eventually, they disappeared behind a thicket of forest, and he turned and nodded. We nodded back and went to get the others, who were sitting happily on a large rock, making pleasant conversation.

The time for goodbyes now having passed, there was nothing more to do than get on our horses and start making our way home again.

As we rode back to Imladris, a numbness had started to come over Elrond that had me worried. Glorfindel was the only other one who'd picked up on it. He was serene and seemingly able to hold up his end in conversations perfectly well. His smiles and laughs were fabricated, though. Not a single one of them had been genuine the entire trip home.

Fascinatingly enough, there came a surprise on the way that interrupted the otherwise luxuriously uneventful journey: we ran into Curumo and Gríma when we were fairly close to Lothlórien. They both looked to be in pretty bad shape, miserable, bitter, and gaunt. Curumo's white robes were tattered and filthy, and he appeared to have found a large hiking stick that he carried around like a staff, presumably to comfort himself after Olórin had shattered his staff.

"Well bugger me sideways!" I said loudly, jumping off my horse and walking over to them. "Fancy running into you two here. What're you up to, then?"

Curumo gave me a poisonous glare. "What do you care where we go now? Are you not content with our ruin?" he spat at us. "If you must know, we are departing the realm of the Ranger King."

Olórin got off his horse now, too, and strode up beside me, joined by the others slowly.

"Steady, Curumo," he said. "You are travelling in the wrong direction if you are trying to cross the border out of Aragorn's territory. But we can help you, if you will accept it."

"I don't want your _pity!" _he hissed, incensed now. "I am quite sure that either the Lady Galadriel or this urchin here," he waved his hand in my direction, "knew you would find me here and brought you along this path to gloat at me in my poverty. They have both always hated me."

"Well, to be fair, Curumo," I said with a shrug, "you've always been an insufferable prick. Poorly-intentioned and couldn't even get the superficially charming bit right either. Not much in the way of redeeming features, you know?"

Olórin gave me a withering look and turned back to Curumo, but as he went to speak, Galadriel stepped forward.

"Curumo, we have things that are more urgent to us than hunting you down and making light of your downfall. Will you accept our help, or will you not?"

"I most certainly will not!" he shrieked angrily, quickly displacing his fury by whacking Gríma with his stick and ignoring his servant's yelps of pain, set off, nose in the air.

The others shared somewhat surprised glances at this, and taking my last opportunity to stick the slipper into this terrible, terrible person, shouted out in my best cheery voice, "All right! Toodle-pip, you entire oxygen thief of a wanker!"

"Rhodri, he's not a wanker any more," Glorfindel reminded me as he came over. "Olórin's the wanker now."

His comment caught me off-guard and before I could pull myself up, I dissolved into the most undignified, cacophonous, hysterical wheezing laughter. The strain of it all completely immobilised me, trapping me in a half squat because I was exhaling so long and hard that I'd started to deflate like a balloon.

"Rhodri?" Glorfindel asked cautiously, bending down a little to try and meet my eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, darling," I apologised when I got my breath back, panting a little as I did.

"Would you like to share with us what you find so incredibly amusing, Rhodri?" Olórin asked me, putting his hands on his hips and raising an eyebrow at me.

I straightened up and thought about it for a moment, and when I realised I would have to explain what the word really (REALLY) meant in front of my nephews and such refined folk as the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, I decided it was best to leave it. Too awkward for words.  
"Not really, no," I replied breezily and got back on my horse.

Galadriel and Celeborn splintered off from us as we passed Lothlórien, shrinking our group once more. As we parted with them, I could have sworn that I saw an exhausted expression cross Galadriel's face. Her eyes met mine for a moment- azure and glittering, but vulnerable. She seemed to scrutinise me briefly, as if to check if I had seen it. Wordlessly, I made her aware that I had, and a tiny smile pulled up the corners of my face. I had a feeling we would see her again very soon, and it would be in the context of boarding a boat.

In Imladris, we were greeted with Elves everywhere singing joyfully to welcome Elrond home. They seemed to know this would be the last time they would do it, and it only made them sing more beautifully than usual, their voices clear as bells and like balm for our tired selves.

Celebrations followed a couple of days later for Bilbo's hundred and twenty-ninth birthday- a most outstanding effort, which marked what would be the final party to be held in Imladris while we were there. It was a fairly small sort of do, mostly because there was hardly anyone left now, but also partly because Bilbo was positively ancient now and could barely stay awake during regular proceedings, let alone through a huge all-nighter. While he was awake, though, he delighted us with stories, and even danced a little when some lively music came on. It was a quiet end to a very loud era, all told.

Shortly after that, the Hobbits departed with Olórin to make their way back toward the Shire, and things fell really, truly quiet again in Imladris. It hadn't been so quiet since Gil-Galad died. The silence was deafening, and the only person it didn't seem to bother was Elrond. His numbness had grown into apathy which he was increasingly unable to mask. He moved around the corridors like a ghost, and needed prodding to do anything.

"You need to speak with him, Rhodri," Glorfindel said to me one night as we stood on the observation deck. "It can't go on like this."

"I know," I said quietly. "I don't think he's going to accept any help from me, though. I think we need to start getting ready to go west."

"I know. But we have to try, don't we?"

"Well, certainly. And you know I'll do anything I can."

"Of course." Glorfindel sighed. "I just hate to leave, that's all," he whispered sadly. "I love it here."

"I love it, too," I murmured, looking out over the vast landscape that glowed in the bright light of the full moon. "It's been such a wonderful home." I coughed a little.

Glorfindel looked at me. "You've been coughing a lot lately, beloved."

"Don't worry," I said with a small smile. "I'm not sick, and it's not contagious."

"You only seem to do it when emotions are running high."

I shrugged, looking nonchalant. "Just one of those things, I guess."

"Am I to assume that this isn't the right time to broach the topic?" Glorfindel looked at me knowingly.

"Ideally, we'd leave it for later," I admitted. "Things are about to get busy, what with all of..." I waved my hand, "... _this."_

"I won't forget about it," he said, raising an eyebrow at me.

"I know you won't." I tilted his chin to me and drew him into a kiss. "I'll bring things up with Elrond tomorrow."

"... Does this mean you're free this evening?" he murmured quietly.

My ears pricked up. It had been a very long time since we were alone together, and I felt my insides stir as the words bounced around in my head.

"I certainly am," I replied, a wicked grin creeping over my face as I made to pepper his face with kisses.

That fell flat, however, because Glorfindel held up his index finger and put it over my lips. I stopped dead and looked at him in confusion.

"In which case, you have sufficient time to explain to me exactly what the word 'wanker' means," he said crisply.

"... Bugger it."


	78. The challenge of restraining water

**Author's note: **CW: this chapter discusses depression. And death. And ghosts? I anticipate the next few will do much the same, but I'll add warnings for other things as needed. As always: you're important! Important people need to drink water! Drink some!

**Rosenthorne and GreyLynx: **I really appreciate the comments you two leave! Thanks so much for taking time to drop your thoughts and feedback! _ mighty kind of you.

**Loreil: **Oh, I've got a few other ideas for stories. I'd rather not jump from one Glorfindel x OC story to the next without a pause, though, because in my head it interrupts the monogamy of the first one, if that makes sense. If people are happy enough to read more of my stuff, I'll publish it here for sure. My next idea has been for one starting pre-LoTR and eschews canon. Rough summary: Lawyer and piano builder with mysterious past collects representatives to build a legal case against the Valar to demand their assistance in destroying the One Ring. I don't really intend to end Pathology. Rhodri will always have stuff to do, but once she's settled into a comfortable everyday, I'll probably update that story less often.

Anyhoo though, if any of you find you might be interested in the story above, drop a comment and I'll publish it when I get around to bashing out a chapter or two.

§

"Elrond, do you have a moment?" I asked the next morning as I stood at the open door to his study.

Elrond had been sitting at his desk, going through the motions of being busy with paperwork but in actual fact getting sweet FA done. Upon hearing my voice, he slowly turned around, moving with all his usual fluidity but lacking purpose as he did it. It made his movements seem ghostly.

"Oh, Rhodri," he said placidly, a small, reflexive smile incongruous with his blank eyes. "Yes, I suppose I have a lot of moments, really. Come, sit."

I nodded gratefully as I closed the door behind me and strode over to where he was sitting. His desk was right near the door out to the balcony, and he usually went straight out there when I stopped by, as we enjoyed observing the plants and birds as we spoke. Today, though, he stayed in his seat and turned it around a little.

"Not in the mood to sit on the balcony, watch the birds a little bit?"

His eyes squinted a tiny bit as he seemed to ask himself the same question.

"Mmm, not especially," he answered. "I don't really feel any urge to go anywhere or do much of anything, to be truthful with you."

"Yes, I noticed something like that was going on. It's part of the reason why I stopped by on this particular occasion."

"What was the other part?"

"You know no day is complete for me without getting in your face at least once, meldir," I returned with a wry smile.

"Hah," he chuckled weakly. "So what do you mean you stopped by to see me because I don't feel like going places?"

"Well, I'm not sure whether you've noticed or not, but you've been acting rather out of character, and it's got me more than a little worried for you."

"Worried?" Elrond echoed me absent-mindedly. "Oh, I wouldn't be too concerned, really. I'm just a little tired."

"Ah, see, this is where I'm inclined to disagree," I said carefully, pulling him up to his feet and walking him over to the couch to sit with me. "I think this goes a long way beyond being in need of a nap."

He looked at me passively, saying nothing.

I sighed. "Elrond, I'll level with you here: I'm worried that you're really quite unwell. Unwell enough to necessitate intervention."

Elrond cocked his head slightly. "I don't think I am, really."

"So you don't see any issue with your skipping meals or sudden drops in socialisation, or your total loss of interest in any of the things that you used to really enjoy? You don't even throw yourself into your work, which out of all your coping mechanisms was the one that gave me the most grief. And all of that is just scratching the surface. I know there's awful things going on in your head right now."

He shrugged.

"This can't continue, old darling. Something's going to have to give."

"What do you mean by that?" Elrond asked, even the intonation in his voice falling a little flat.

"I mean that you're in danger, and Glorfindel and I are taking action. You need to either start talking to me in a professional capacity, or we will have to step in and escort you to Valinor ourselves."

He raised an eyebrow a little. "I'm certain that neither of those are necessary, Rhodri."

"You seem to be forgetting, meldir, that we listened to you frantically claw your fëa back to your body for almost twelve hours straight the night of Aragorn and Arwen's wedding."

"I remember little from that evening, truth be told," he murmured quietly, the only sign of emotion a wince as I said his daughter's name.

"Be assured, we recall it in very vivid detail," I replied heavily. "And we are quite sure that there are still times you have to exert effort to keep your fëa tethered to you." I shook my head. "It's not healthy, meldir. You'll end up in Mandos at this rate, whether it's from the fëa departing, or if you simply starve yourself to death. I've known you needed help for millennia now, and the offer to assist has always been there. I've respected your wishes so far, but now it's gone on too long and the toll is simply too great. You need to make a choice, or Glorfindel and I will be obliged to make it for you."

"You would not force me on the ship to Valinor," he said, a droll, lop-sided smile pulling at one corner of his mouth as he looked at me in half amusement.

I bit my lip and felt hot tears prick at my eyes. "Yes, I would," I whispered, feeling horror creep over me that I'd said it aloud.

His entertained expression vanished, replaced with a look of disbelief as he watched me clear my throat.

"I can't let you languish here, Elrond," I continued when I got my breath back. "You're not in a fit state of mind to make decisions if you think that a slow death by wasting away is a viable way to proceed. I'd absolutely use force to keep you safe."

Elrond looked away and sat silently for a few moments as he took all this in, not meeting my eyes once throughout. His unwillingness to even look in my direction had a lump in my throat and my eyes stinging to buggery. Excusing myself, I got up and went out to the balcony where I dissolved into a coughing fit, hacking and panting as I got myself under wraps again.

Calm again, I stepped back inside to find Elrond still staring at his knees.

"Which is it to be, meldir?" I asked gently but firmly. "They are your only two options, and you must pick one."

"I don't have it in me to seek help, Rhodri." His voice was monotone, but his brows were knitted a little, and his face distinctly haunted.

"Do you have it in you to receive help?"

He shook his head in that same jerky fashion that Celebrían had after her attack. "I dare not open any of it to examine it now."

"Then we make for Valinor," I said with a decisive nod. "Preparations for our journey west begin as of today. I want you to start making a list of things you want to take with you, and I'll go and tell Glorfindel and Erestor."

To my surprise, Elrond accepted this with a nod. No protests, no what ifs. He wordlessly stood up, went to his desk, and sat down, taking a pen and scratching something out on a piece of paper.

"I'll be back in a little while," I said, making for the door to find the others.

§

I'm not sure if I was simply used to Sauron throwing odd curveballs that thwarted my plans, or if this really was going unusually well, but the time we spent preparing to up stumps went very smoothly indeed.

Elrond remained very apathetic and withdrawn through the process. I don't think he particularly cared where he went or what he did any more at that point, which, given the horrors he'd had to live through, was more than understandable.

For the rest of us, things were busy but manageable. We had sent out letters to Círdan, Galadriel and Celeborn, Arwen and Aragorn, and anyone else we could think of to let them know of our departure plans. Replies of all sorts came back after a short while- Círdan told us a ship would be ready within the year, Galadriel told us she would be coming (but not Celeborn?). Aragorn and Arwen were predictably grieved but had known it would happen, and enclosed two other letters in their correspondence: one for Elrond and Celebrían, and another from Legolas, asking that we tell Bregedúr he would follow us after finishing the restoration of the Mirkwood forest. He sounded resentful that he would lose even more time with them, but royal duties being what they were, I didn't suppose he had a choice in the matter.

The last few months in Imladris went by in a flurry as we started to pack up six thousand years' worth of memories into luggage that met the limits of the strictest airlines. Luckily, the Elves had quite a no-nonsense approach to immortality, which meant that they usually managed to accumulate fewer sentimental objects over a handful of millennia than most mortals did in a decade. The troubles came more from the fact that such items were often widely dispersed. Living communally did that sort of thing, I suppose.

The only thing I had wanted to take with me but realistically couldn't was the door to my office. Realising that it wasn't feasible to just rip something like that off its hinges and haul it onto a boat had me more upset than I thought. Erestor, though, surprised me with the most excellent replacement that I could have asked for. Unbeknownst to me, he'd been staying up late at night to paint (was there anything he couldn't do?) a picture of the Bib-and-Brace Club members flanking the door, the climber vines in full bloom around the jamb. It was the first time I had ever seen us all standing together, immortalised in our colourful overalls, looking as though we were having our photograph taken as we beamed in the direction of the painter. Even Gil-Galad was there, his overalls cobalt blue with four-pointed silver stars stitched over the legs. I snapped Erestor up in a bone-crushing hug, hoping I could express everything I felt about it into the embrace, as my words had totally failed me at that point. He seemed to understand, though, because he gripped me back and whispered, "I'm glad you like it, meldis."

My heart swelled every time I looked at the painting after that, and there were quite few times I'd eschewed my duties to simply pore over it. It was like looking at what could have been had Sauron never come into the picture, and it had an almost addictive property about it as I indulged fantasies in my head of a peaceful, deliciously uneventful life in Imladris with all of them there.

Despite my newfound sporadic bouts of work-shyness, though, we had everything packed up that we could think of, and as travelling companions trickled in, the departure date had come at last.

"All packed?" I asked as we all stood in the courtyard, the horses ready and the cart loaded up with our possessions. I already knew the answer, but old habits die hard. At least I didn't ask if they had their passports.

They nodded wordlessly, and with that, we walked out of the courtyard and down the valley one final time. The only travelling companions who seemed not to care were Moth and Borgil, who happily slept in the laps of Glorfindel and Elrond respectively. They would be singing a different tune if the rains suddenly came, I didn't doubt, but it looked so sunny that I couldn't imagine a cloud daring to drop anything on us. It really was the perfect send-off. Even Elrond looked a little better, just as Celebrían had when she was preparing to depart.

Fortunately for the cats, the sunny weather held out. I almost didn't recognise some places as we travelled through them, the pouring rain having obscured a lot of the sights the time Glorfindel and I had gone to Mithlond to collect Olórin. As we passed the huge black rock we'd sunbaked on, Glorfindel took my hand in his and raised his eyebrows once, a wicked grin on his face that grew as he appeared to recognise the temptation that registered in me.

"_Once more? Just to say goodbye to it?" _I asked.

"_How could I say no to that face?" _Glorfindel scooped up Moth, passed him to a surprised Galadriel, and dismounted Asfaloth with one smooth jump.

I followed suit, joining him in bolting over to the rock.

"Where are you two going?" shouted Elrond behind us.

"We'll be with you in a minute!" Glorfindel yelled back over his shoulder, scrambling up to the top of the rock with me.

At the top, it was like we were on top of the whole world. The view was terrific, and the stone was warm underfoot after hours of warm sun had heated it up. I looked at Glorfindel, and he looked more radiant and resplendent than he ever had. Everything about him glowed, his hair rippling like spun gold in the gentle breeze. He strode over to me and took my face in his hands.

"You are breathtakingly beautiful," he murmured as he watched me lovingly.

"I was just thinking the same about you," I replied with a smile. "Come here, gorgeous," I murmured as I twisted and dipped him into a kiss, holding his back with one hand and supporting his head with the other. He moaned gently and pulled my head hard down to him, wrapping a hand around my waist.

The rest of the world seemed blocked out at that moment. Nothing else was going on outside of us putting our tongues in each other's mouths, except when we heard a loud, "Well, _really,_ you two!" that had come from Elrond, who I saw from the corner of my eye was mounted on his horse with his hands on his hips. The kiss broke apart, and we gave him a cheery wave, climbing back down and returning to the procession.

"Sorry, El," I said with a crooked grin as I mounted my horse. "Couldn't resist."

"We had our first kiss up there," Glorfindel confessed, blushing a little as he sat up on Asfaloth's back again. Moth jumped up onto Glorfindel's lap, giving him a look of deep reproach before curling up and falling asleep again.

Elrond tutted, but the smile on his face belied his apparent disapproval.

A week and a bit later, we arrived in the Shire, evening having just fallen. Not that that was much of an issue for us; the whole Elven/Maian bioluminescence thing really did wonders in the prevention of stubbed toes and whacked shins when it came to moving in the dark. In fact, we shone brightly enough that people were able to see us from a distance, and indeed, we were greeted warmly by Frodo and Sam, both of whom looked particularly delighted to see Bilbo.

To my surprise, though, Frodo asked me for a short word alone.

"Just for a few minutes," he said hastily.

"Sure thing," I said with a smile, turning to the others. "I'll be back in a tick."

Frodo led me up the path to his sweet little house built into the side of the hill and ushered me inside, shutting the door behind him.

The inside was very pleasant. The ceilings and archways were domed with a rich, red hardwood that sat beautifully against the soft whiteness of the walls. The furniture, though primarily focused on comfort (everything looked very squashy) was still stylish, and bookshelves and paintings sat in every room. I felt instantly at home here and knew that if I could just get used to crawling around everywhere, I'd do terrifically in a house just like it.

"What's happening, Frodo?" I asked.

"I don't want to keep you, Rhodri, so I'll just get to the heart of the matter," he said quickly. "I am still hurt and scarred over the Ring. I don't sleep well, and I am unhappy. Can I do anything to fix this? I've tried your relaxation exercises, but they don't help much."

"Goodness, this isn't really something that can be answered in a few minutes, Frodo," I said, taken aback by the hurry of it all.

"But now we have very limited time, Rhodri. Can you recommend anything at all for me to try?"

"This isn't really appropriate, but I won't be able to help much more now." I sighed. "Normally when it comes to processing traumatic events, I suggest that people start to work through it by going through what happened autobiographically."

"I have already done that," he replied, walking over to his desk and pulling out what I recognised as Bilbo's red leatherbound book. He handed it to me, and I quickly flicked through it, trying to see if I could get a glimpse into his recovery as he recounted it all. The content was quite factual, but still had emotional descriptions of what had happened as well. All in all, quite well-balanced.

"Do you try to stay away from anything that reminds you of the Ring or your journey to Mordor?" I asked.

"Oh, no," he replied calmly. "I have a substitute ring I fidget with that I keep in my pocket, and I am as calm around spiders as ever. I don't fear fire, as you see," he gestured at the crackling fireplace.

"Any times where you relive horrific moments, awake or asleep?"

"A few nightmares, but nothing especially out of the ordinary. But I am tired, and in pain often."

I rubbed my chin. He seemed not to have signs of post-traumatic stress, and all in all was about as well-adjusted as one could hope for.

"To be honest with you, Frodo, I don't think this is anything I'll be able to help you with, especially not on such a limited timeframe. I get the impression you know this already, too." I indicated the packed bag and suitcase that sat by the front door. "Maybe it's time to head west and find some healing where you can. I'll be there to help where I can, but I imagine that simply being there will afford you the relief you seek."

Frodo nodded gingerly. "I do know. I just don't know how to do it."

"Let's take it one step at a time. We'll get your bags first, and then you'll talk to Sam, and we'll go to the Grey Havens. If you change your mind when we get there, you can always go home, and if you don't, you can come to a new home with us. What do you think?"

"All right."

As we stepped back outside, I picked up his two bags and carried them out to the cart, grunting with relief as I was able to stretch up to my full height without the risk of clocking myself on a door frame.

"We may have another couple of travelling companions," I announced to the Elves, putting the bags away as Frodo and a rather tearful Sam came over to us.

"Ah, excellent," Elrond said serenely, looking ever more peaceful the closer we got to the sea. "Welcome, Frodo and Sam, to the last leg of the journey."

"You two can ride on our horses," Glorfindel said as he handed Moth to a rather pleased Galadriel and left Asfaloth's back again. He lifted Sam up onto his horse, I helped Frodo onto mine, and we strolled together beside Elrond's horse the rest of the way to the Grey Havens.

We reached the Grey Havens in the late afternoon about five days later. Círdan saw us approaching from afar and greeted us with a hearty wave.

"Hello, all of you!" he said jovially, setting his tools down. "Allow me to show you to your vessel."

He led us down the promenade to the docks where a huge, white wooden ship floated, the tiny waves lapping gently against its sides.

I wasn't able to sit still and talk, I was so nervous. I started grabbing the luggage and moving it onto the ship instead, trying to make myself useful. I had no idea what to expect from going west. I suppose few of us in the company did. What was I going to do with myself there? Would Tulkas be pleased with me? Had things finally resolved between him and Irmo? What on earth was going to happen? The questions came in so thick and fast that I was almost dizzy. I'd put off thinking about it, but now that it was finally about to happen, I had to face it.

Once I'd loaded up the boat, I strolled back over, trying to keep cool, but emotions seemed to run high now. Frodo and Sam had an emotional goodbye, and everyone else said their own poignant farewell to the continent that had housed us for so many millennia. The only people who looked truly ready were Elrond, Galadriel, and Olórin, and it was because they were so tired, so in need of a break.

"The sea calls us home," Elrond said to us quietly, smiling in the familiar, calm way he used to. Glorfindel squeezed my hand, and we followed everyone else onto the ship.

I couldn't say how long the last leg of the journey actually took. We weren't ever bored, even when it seemed there was nothing to do. We were happy enough, singing and talking and listening to Elrond play the harp, so the time passed comfortably. Timekeeping devices just didn't seem to work out there, and our brains certainly didn't either. I know that night fell many times, and day came up again just as many. Even when we caught the first glimpse of the outer lying island of Tol Eressëa, our chronological abilities were still out of whack. We knew we were close to arrival, though.

Elrond had started to get agitated once we had passed Tol Eressëa, pacing up and down the boat in a way that was totally unlike his usual equanimity. If he sat, he was tapping his toes and drumming his fingers impatiently on his knee. Most of the time, though, he was at the very front of the boat, keeping a very close eye out for the shore, occasionally pushing on the bow of the ship as if trying to hurry the damn thing up.

After what must have been an eternity for our restive buddy, the first glimpses of a long shore started to come into view. The sands were light yellow and stretched in either direction as far as I could see, and shortly after that, huge, magnificent white houses seemed to crop up out of nowhere, backdropped by a snow-capped mountain range in the distance. Elrond, starting to get almost frantic, had to be ordered to keep his hands and feet inside the boat for at least the next few kilometres.

"You won't swim faster than the boat, Elrond," Glorfindel said to him with a smile. "If you absolutely can't wait the last few metres, I'm sure Rhodri will oblige you by tossing you the rest of the way."

For once, Elrond looked like he was actually considering letting me do it.

When we moored, we stepped out and left the docks, our feet on land for the first time in an age, and as we trudged up the sand bank, our welcome came into view. People of all sorts were running toward us that sparked thrilled reactions. Elrond had broken into a sprint as he bolted over to Celebrían, and two very enthusiastic golden-haired people were making their way over to where Glorfindel stood. Galadriel had some lookalike people, either siblings or parents, walking to her calmly, smiling broadly.

I stood back a little, trying to give them all some privacy when I heard a familiar deep voice.

"_Hello there, my little one."_ I looked over and my heart leapt to see Tulkas, huge and mighty as he towered over me (how on earth had I managed to not see him there?). He beamed at me, bent down and opened his arms, which I jumped into enthusiastically, laughing happily all the while.

"_We will leave the talking for later," _he said before I could say anything to him. "_I have a surprise for you."_

I looked at him in confusion, and he stood up and moved to the side. My jaw dropped as the sight of my family hit my field of vision. Unable to speak, I let out a strangled shout and ran over to them, drinking in the vision of them. They were exactly as I remembered them, but all frozen in some sort of young adulthood. My mother and father were beaming at me radiantly, holding each other's hands, and my siblings fixed me with their usual looks. Gentle Flora with her mild smile, quirky Rhys, one eyebrow raised, wild Charlotte with her impish grin, and sweet Oliver with a happy laugh.

My legs, weak from the shock, gave out when I was a few paces away, and I sank down to my knees. Still not able to speak, I held my arms out, silently begging them to come to me.

"Hello, darling," my mother said lovingly as she and my father stepped over and took my hands. No touch registered, as they didn't have complete bodies, but the same warmth and delight from their contact filled me.

"I missed you so much," I choked, feeling my throat close up as my eyes burned with tears.

"We missed you, too," my father said with his familiar, broad smile. "We're so proud of you."

_Proud? _My stomach dropped out at those words, and I was filled with burning guilt. "I- I went to war," I confessed in a stammer. My tears almost completely obscured my vision as I looked up pleadingly at them, hoping their shame would be tempered by pity.

"We know, darling," my mother nodded gently.

"Can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Rhodri," she said simply. "You weren't really given a choice in the matter. I think you know that."

"We've seen all your goings-on, you know. We've been watching you the entire time," Rhys piped up in his usual attempt to lighten the mood, loping over to my parents' side now.

"Certainly have," Flora added happily as she came over now, too. "Cheered you on all the way."

I could barely keep my mind on any one sentence, all the thousands of things I had wanted to tell them over the years suddenly competing to be said aloud. "Can we sit somewhere and talk?"

My father shook his head gently.

"Dad? Why not?" I asked quickly, feeling terror fill me.

"We have to go again soon," Oliver murmured, sharing a sad glance with Charlotte as they joined the rest of us.

"Your Tulkas pulled some strings to let us come here and visit you for a moment," Flora said. "I think he must have been very pleased with you."

"But- but-" I stammered.

"Don't worry. You'll see us again soon enough," my father reassured me, warming up my shoulder with a hand that didn't quite pat me there. "When we're all 'lumped together again,' as you put it so eloquently." His liquid brown eyes twinkled as he chuckled gently at me.

"Please don't leave me," I begged him, then looking at my mother beseechingly. "Stay. Please."

"Just a little bit longer, sweetheart," she stroked my hair. "We'll be back, I promise. Glorfindel and your lovely friends will look after you in the meantime." My mother smiled gently as she gestured behind me. I glanced quickly behind me and saw Glorfindel standing with Elrond and Celebrían, and Erestor and Gil-Galad, who had just arrived. They all stood together quietly, looking on and nodding fervently.

"Give us a quick cuddle, and we'll see you in a little while, all right?" My father knelt down with my mother and they put their arms around me, my brothers and sisters reaching around as well. I put my arms out to grab them, but there was nothing there but floating warmth that heated up wherever they were hugging me.

"I love you," I gasped, unable to stop the whimper that followed. I shut my eyes tightly to stop the tears leaking, the very last threads of my composure about to snap.

"We love you, too."

My shoulders and body felt cool again, and when I opened my eyes, they were gone.

My heart broke. I felt like they'd been snatched away from me all over again. The wounds of losing them the first time around, which I had studiously left untouched over the long years, were suddenly even more raw and excruciating than they had been to begin with. I clutched my head and squeezed it to try and distract myself. As hard as I tried to keep myself calm, though, my efforts only seemed to make it worse. I desperately wished everyone would look away as my sharp, convulsive breaths became punctuated by whines that I could no longer swallow back, and the burning tears poured out of my tightly scrunched eyes. A pair of hands gently pulled me into a cross-legged lap, and arms went around me, pressing me close to a familiar torso.

"Please cry, Rhodri," I heard Glorfindel's voice in my ear.

I would have given anything to be able to decline that request, and I certainly tried to, but of all the things it could have been, that was what undid me. Six thousand years' worth of grief and other emotions boiled up and flooded out of me, and I clutched onto his robes like a little child as I sobbed into his chest. Other hands started to pat my shoulders and rub my back, and when I could eventually bring myself to look up, the others had sat around us, huddled close to Glorfindel.

"We're here for you," Elrond said, an arm around Celebrían who sat to his left. She smiled and nodded, looking as lively and well as she ever had. Everyone around nodded as well.

I gave them a watery smile, surprised at how much better I was feeling already considering what had just happened. I seemed to have been reset after that brief but embarrassing period of howling like a wounded beast, back to a gentle ache of missing my family that was mollified by the comforting knowledge they were _somewhere_, even if not in proximity, and would be back in my life soon enough. It would be uncomfortable, but eminently manageable. I don't doubt that the happy vibes of Valinor helped a great deal, too.

"Can we go and eat something?" I asked thickly, drying my eyes on my robe.

"_Some_ things never change," Gil-Galad said with a wry smile, raising an eyebrow.


	79. Setting up and knocking down

**Meadow: **They aren't alive any more. That's why Rhodri's parents looked like young adults again. I don't quite know if everyone died during the vanishment, or if Rhodri was simply withdrawn and everyone had to make do without her until their original time was up. When I work it out, though, I'll let you know. :)  
Elladan and Elrohir do stay in Middle-Earth awhile longer. I like to think it's because they're wrapping things up since Elrond had to skedaddle as quick as he did. I never entertain the idea that they decided to stay in Middle-Earth. Poor Elrond and Celebrían have been through enough. I figure Thranduil probably headed over with Gimli and Legolas. He's got family in Valinor, after all- especially a certain granddaughter of whom he was very fond. As for Celeborn, my guess is he was very fond of Middle-Earth and wasn't quite ready to leave when Galadriel was.

**Loriel: **I thought I'd pair this OC with Elladan. They'll make quite a team, I think.

**Guest:** Nah, Maglor annoys the hell out of me. Too weak-willed to have morals that go one way or the other, now doomed to be a beachcomber because he couldn't summon the spine to tell Feanor where he could ram his Silmarils. I _almost_ feel bad for the guy, but then I remember what he did. No pairing for him. An appearance maybe, but no spouse.

**NoSignalBlueScreen: **Oh egad, I feel terrible for making you cry now. :P I'd much rather make you laugh! But I'm glad you're interested in checking out the next story! It's one I've been fiddling around with for quite some time now, and I've been keen to hammer it out.

§

It took far less time to adjust to Valinor than I had anticipated. It was, after all, a huge change of scene. A small but spectacular valley nestled away being swapped out for a colossal island that had almost every kind of biosphere in it? Cool, but dramatically different. I'd been predicting a changeover period of at least some months, but I felt at home as soon as I'd managed to stop blubbing onto my spouse.

Overall, I knew that that total dissolution of my composure had been for the best. Honest to god, though, I was thinking twice about it when I realised that those two enthusiastic blondes who'd run to greet Glorfindel were his _parents_. The first impression they'd had of me was that I was crying so hard I could've put Nienna out of a job.

Quickly wiping my face, I stood up out of Glorfindel's lap and pulled him to his feet with me. One constipated expression later, the swelling was gone from my face, and I knew I was at least a little bit more presentable now.

I turned around to look at everyone, smiling and hoping they'd forget what they'd just seen. That was a little too much to ask, though, which I knew as Glorfindel's parents stepped over to us now, every bit as sweet and anxious-looking as their offspring. The father had Glorfindel's softly angular face shape and gently sloping eyebrows, but almost the rest of Glorfindel's features were his mother's.

"Goodness me, Rhodri, that must have been difficult for you," the mother said as she took me into an embrace.

"Oh! Ah… well, it was challenging, certainly, but I feel much better now-"

"Do not push yourself too hard, young Rhodri," the father said as he clasped my hand firmly in his, "give it time, now."

"Beloved," Glorfindel said as he gestured at his parents, "allow me to introduce you to my mother, Galwen, and my father, Gloredhel."

"Pleasure to meet the both of you," I said with a broad smile, hoping that my enthusiasm would allay their concerns that I was about to begin another round of distraught boo-hooing. "Glorfindel tells me you are both replete with embarrassing stories of him in his youth. Please know that you will find a very attentive audience in me."

"Remember if you will, my love, that I reserve the right to do the same as you when we next see your parents," Glorfindel reminded me, an eyebrow arched.

A silence fell as I quickly considered my options here. After a moment, I shrugged. "Worth it."

Though the entire congregation had originally planned to go for breakfast, it seemed to be continually put off as greetings kept coming up.

Bregedúr, who hated getting rammed by the emotions as much as I did, had been standing in the background, pretending not to see me until I was calm again. It sounded like a heartless practice, but our friendship had always had a solid foundation of stoicness. We knew we could be as brash and businesslike with each other as needed, and that displays of tenderness between us came in the form of opportunities to save face in a moment of vulnerability. Someone else could handle the directly emotional things. We were each other's guards. She greeted me with a firm slap on the back, assuring me that she had brought her overalls and was expecting me to assemble the Bib-and-Brace Club as soon as may be. After passing on the message to her from Legolas, comprehension seemed to dawn on her face.

"Ah, that's why he wasn't on this boat," she said in understanding, a little disappointed.

"Mmm, those royal duties getting in the way of things again, though I imagine he'll have much more free time on his hands once he leaves the realm for good and comes here," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"We would hope."

"You won't have a moment to yourself in the interim," I informed her. "I intend to make the most of us being in close proximity again."

"You had better," she returned with a wicked smile. "Now go and say hello to some of the others." Bregedúr turned me around and gently shoved me toward Gil-Galad, who was standing _awfully_ close to Erestor.

"Do… do you remember me?" I asked him nervously.

"Of course I do, you fool," he said as he pulled me into an embrace. "Why do you think I remembered you wanting food?"

"Oh, thank god, so my letter wasn't creepy?" I sighed with relief as I hugged him back.

"Not at all. Thank you for the dice, by the way. Yahtzee has become quite popular here, so I trust you'll let me thrash you over a couple of rounds in the near future."

I rolled my eyes. "_You_ haven't changed a bit, I see. Still entertaining ridiculous hopes that you'll come out victorious."

"I've got the track record to suggest it has every chance of coming to pass," he smiled smugly at me.

"Pride comes before a fall, pal, just remember that."

Before I knew what I was doing, I had someone slip their arm in mine and whisk me away toward one of the huge, white houses. As I spun around and was jerked into a rhythm, I saw Celebrían smiling as she pulled me along with huge steps.

"You said you wanted to eat. The food is ready, but you just won't stop talking to people."

I beamed at her and put an arm around her, pulling her tightly to my side.

"I missed you," I said quietly to her.

Celebrían chuckled weakly. "I missed you too, meldis."

"How, ah… how are you-" I began to ask cautiously, but Celebrían cut me off.

"Completely fine. It's amazing what a spell in this place can do for one."

I gave her a relieved squeeze. Elrond came up on her other side and put an arm around Celebrían, beaming at her. I took my arm off her and stepped away a little.

"We'll follow behind," I said, slipping my freed-up hand into Glorfindel's.

Celebrían led us up a hill into an absolutely colossal white, wooden house. It was built in a similar style to the house in Imladris- sprawling, at least three stories high, and packed to the brim with tiny, intricate details that I was sure I'd be constantly amazed by for centuries to come.

On the ground floor was a huge, open dining hall, big enough to seat at least a hundred people. The table was neatly set, with filled breadbaskets, large bowls of seasonal fruits, yoghurts, and at least seven different kinds of tea.

"So where to from here?" I asked nobody in particular over a bowl of fresh berries.

"What do you mean?" Bregedúr asked, looking up from her food in confusion.

"Well, we weren't really able to arrange for things like accommodation or what we can do to help, assuming there's some sort of communal arrangement here."

"You can live anywhere you like," Gil-Galad said with a shrug. "You don't even need to choose. Many of us have several places we like to go, and we travel there depending on what takes our fancy."

"We don't really have anywhere to live at the moment, though," I murmured as I digested his words. "When's the winter due to set in? Do we have enough time to build a house before the conditions make it hard to get things done?"

"It's winter here right now," Galwen informed me, laughing. "This area is quite popular among those who want an escape from the snow in the chillier parts."

I nodded in surprise. So this was the tropics. I could get used to this, I decided to myself.

"Besides which, Rhodri, you and Glorfindel obviously have a place to live," Celebrían said.

"Really? Where?"

"Here with us, you fool!" she gestured at the structure we were in. "We've lived together for thousands of years. Why would we stop now?"

"Unless, of course, you'd rather live alone," Elrond added.

Glorfindel and I looked at each other and shook our heads quickly. We loved communal living and being surrounded by people, and had quietly admitted to each other the fear of having to live in a house by ourselves in Valinor.

"I didn't think so," Celebrían said with a laugh.

"Who else lives here?"

"Everybody at this table," said Gloredhel with a laugh. "It was originally Eärendil's house that he had built for the seafarers, but many others have lived in it since. There would be enough room for another twenty families at least."

"And if it's work you're looking for," Celebrían said with a wry smile, "I doubt the Maia of Tulkas will be left wanting there. We are constantly building, and the materials can be very heavy."

Going from psychology to construction (or, more specifically, a hauler-about of weighty things) was a rather substantial shift in careers, but I always was told a change was as good as a holiday. Plus, if hefting big things for a few hours a day was the fee for living in the land of milk and honey, I was getting off pretty easy.  
"Cool," I said with a happy nod, shooting her the thumbs-up.

After we had eaten, everyone went their separate ways. Gil-Galad disappeared with Erestor, apparently having much to catch up on. Elrond and Celebrían, who had barely been able to keep their eyes off each other, made themselves similarly scarce. As the two Hobbits made to disappear with someone, I realised I hadn't greeted him yet. Despite having never seen him before, there was something strangely familiar about him. He was tall, with long, snow-white hair, eyes like glaciers, and a jaw sharp enough to slice an apple on. Strikingly beautiful and severe, and yet something about him was lighthearted.

"Excuse me," I said to him before he left.

He turned around and surprised me by giving me an amused look, raising his eyebrows a little as if he were waiting for me to deliver the punchline to a joke.

Bewildered, I had no option but to continue now. "I, ah, don't believe we've met, but still I feel like I know you from somewhere. Rhodri's the name. Rhodri Fanshawe." I touched a hand to my heart in polite greeting.

He stared at me in disbelief for a moment, and then, tutting loudly, reached out and swatted me on the arm.

My eyes widened. Only one person I knew habitually did that.

"_Olórin?" _I gaped at him.

He nodded. "Mmm. It took you a little while, Rhodri. I was worried all that time in the sun might have affected your mind a little, but you came around in the end."

I shrugged. "Dunno what to tell you. You look like a whole new person when you've had a wash and brushed your hair."

Olórin glared, pursing his lips at me.

"Play bitch games, win bitch prizes, Olórin."

He rolled his eyes at me playfully as I shot him a wink, and swept off with the Hobbits in tow.

Galadriel disappeared with her blondetourage shortly after that, leaving me with Glorfindel, his parents, and Bregedúr.

"We'll show you to your quarters and help you unpack a little, yes?" Bregedúr offered.

"That'd be great," I said with an appreciative nod. They took us up a couple of flights of stairs and led us along the corridors into an annexe.

"Your chambers are in here," Galwen gestured at the attractive set of cedar double doors behind her.

Glorfindel cooed in excitement and strode over, opening the door with a flourish.

"Ooh, it's just _lovely! _Quick, Rhodri, come and look!"

I didn't need telling twice, picking up the luggage and following him in.

Glorfindel wasn't kidding. We'd hit the architectural jackpot here. Our chambers had about eight spacious, well-lit rooms that were already kitted-out with handsome wooden furniture. The mid-morning sun tumbled in through the huge windows, thrown wide open to catch the sea breeze.

"This is gorgeous," I murmured quietly.

"Glad you like it," Bregedúr said with a satisfied grin. "Elrond had said in a letter to Celebrían that you'd be along soon, so the four of us have been setting the place up in preparation for your arrival. We only finished up a few days prior, so your timing was absolutely perfect."

"Let's leave the unpacking for a while and sit on the balcony," Glorfindel suggested, glancing hopefully at his parents.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Gloredhel said, joining his wife in beaming at us and bustling out the double doors onto the big, shady balcony adjoining the sitting room.

For the next few hours, we took turns filling each other in on the happenings of the last ages. Glorfindel's parents had less to report than we did, largely because Valinor had gone largely untouched by any of the events unfolding in Middle-Earth. I got a small pang of resentment now and then as I thought of the power to allay much of the suffering that had gone untapped here. Surely Aulë could have distracted Sauron while Oromë snapped up the Ring and dropped it into Mount Doom while his back was turned. Or Manwë could've just issued an arrest warrant. Something, anything.

I almost felt glad when Galwen informed us that it hadn't all been beer and skittles, though. Almost. It felt like it reset the fairness a little.

"Oh?" I said, looking at her with interest.

"Mm, there are more troubles here than meets the eye," she replied with a sad nod.

"Like what?"

"Scars and wounds that are left over from troubled times. Some among us remain haunted by the evil of old."

My ears pricked up a little. "Oh, really? That might be something I can help with."

"I knew you'd say that," Bregedúr said with a smug smile. "Which brings me to some news that we haven't informed you of yet."

Glorfindel and I watched the three of them in intrigue as they shared insider looks with each other.

"There has been talk of restoring Alqualondë for some time now, but there never seemed to be sufficient people or motivation to carry it through. Too many awful memories from the Kinslaying, I suppose. Now that you two and Elrond have arrived, though, along with Bregedúr here and Erestor," Gloredhel said as he gestured at our auburn-headed pal, "we might have enough to start things off. What say the two of you?"

Excited, I looked over at Glorfindel, whose face already shone with enthusiasm.

"Oh _yes!" _we squeaked in unison.

"Excellent. Let's show you to your offices, then," Bregedúr said as she stood up. "Exactly what roles everyone will fill in this remains to be seen. It will depend on who is willing to take what."

Glorfindel and I jumped to our feet, and I caught Gloredhel and Galwen jitter a little in excitement themselves as we headed out.

My office was in a similarly quiet spot as the one in Imladris had been, nestled in a corner and easy to close up for privacy purposes. Glorfindel's study sat adjacent to mine, and the room beside his, we were told, was to be Elrond's sanctum.

After giving us the keys to said offices, Glorfindel's folks and Bregedúr took their leave from us, informing us that a huge feast was to be thrown in honour of everyone's arrival and they had to help set up.

"Act surprised, by the way," Bregedúr said as she pointed a finger threateningly at me. "You weren't supposed to know, and Celebrían will be after my blood if she finds out I told you."

We held up our hands in a peacemaking gesture and assured her that we had heard nothing at all and were going to return to our quarters, emerging at…?

"Oh. Yes. Come to the hall when the dinner bell rings, around six o'clock," Bregedúr added hastily. "But not before!"

"Yes, ma'am," I said with an obedient nod.

Satisfied that we had understood our instructions, the three of them left Glorfindel and me standing in the corridor as they bustled off.

"Shall we go and take a closer look at our rooms?" Glorfindel murmured to me, his sapphire eyes twinkling a little.

"I have this strange inkling you only really want to check out one of them," I returned with a small laugh.

"Your inkling isn't wrong," he slipped a hand into mine and we started strolling back in the direction of our chambers. "But in all fairness, that one room will undergo a very, very thorough inspection."

§

A few hours later, I awoke in my plushy new bed, Glorfindel draped over the top of me, still sound asleep. I looked outside and hazarded a guess that it was around half past five.

"Beloved?" I said as I gently stroked Glorfindel's cheek. "We'd better get moving."

Glorfindel blearily opened one eye and watched me vaguely. "Where are we going?"

"To a party we're not supposed to know about."

The other eye opened now.

"Ah, yes." He yawned hugely and stretched a little. "Perhaps we could sleep just a little longer. This bed is delightful."

"You haven't slept on it yet," I pointed out. "You've been lying on top of me for the last three hours."

"I suppose I'd better try it now, then, just for a few minutes," Glorfindel murmured with a hint of a smile as he rolled off me and landed on the mattress with a thump. He grabbed up one of my arms and slipped it under his head, sandwiching it against the pillow.

I chuckled. "All right. I'll drop some things off at my office and come back and wake you in a few minutes, all right?"

"You do spoil me, Rhodri," he mumbled as he dropped back off to sleep, his breathing slow and deep again.

After a few minutes, I had managed to free my hand without waking Glorfindel up. I threw on a set of petrol-coloured robes, grabbed the suitcase that contained all of my files, and took the key to my office as I headed back out.

A creature of habit at heart, I was thrilled to see that my office had been set up in a very similar way to the one I'd had in Imladris (had Bregedúr seen to it that it was nearly identical?). My chair was up against a window, a bookcase to my left, and the couch on the wall to my right between the desk and the door. In the corner behind me to my right stood a set of lockable wooden drawers, even bigger than the set I'd had before. The desk, made out of a handsome, dark mahogany, had built-in drawers just like the ones I used to have that stored my smaller games, scraps of paper, and knick-knacks.

Once I'd put my files away in the lockable drawers and secured them, I realised I'd spent too much time delighting in my new occupational zone, and quickly hurried out. Naturally, being the absent-minded twit that I am, I was totally absorbed in my new surroundings while I was walking. Usually, that's not an issue, because such people usually move at a snail's pace, typically too distracted to travel at a decent pace. I, however, was a twit in a hurry, and that makes for a dangerous combination, which became apparent as I hurtled into something that grunted loudly as it was knocked back.

Returning from outer space, I saw that a very tall, dark-haired Elf lay on his back on the ground, looking disgruntled in the extreme.

"Oh my goodness!" I exclaimed. "I'm terribly sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going at all-"

"_That_ much is perfectly clear," the fellow barked.

I was taken aback. Elves were usually very friendly, and were either slow to anger or passive-aggressive. This guy was aggressive-aggressive already, and the surprise of it robbed me of words for a moment.

"Ah… please, let me help you up," I said, holding a hand out for him to take. The Elf didn't take it, instead getting to his feet on his own, scowling at me all the while.

"Are you all right?" I asked carefully. "You didn't hit your head on the tiles or anything, did you?"

"I am perfectly well when I'm not getting collided into by mentally vacant individuals like yourself!" he snapped at me, now looking quite baleful.

My mouth fell open before I could stop it. I'd never run into such a hostile Elf in all my years in Middle-Earth. I held up a hand carefully and said, "Okay, well, I'll leave you to it, then. Sorry again. Have a good afternoon!" Before he could say anything else, either with his mouth or his fists, I scuttled off back to Glorfindel to get him up in time for the party.


	80. Of good news and gambles

"Hey there, sleepyhead," I said to Glorfindel gently as I pat his shoulder a little. "Time to get up for the party we know nothing about."

Glorfindel cracked one eye open and let out a muffled groan.

"Goodness me, you must be exhausted. I've never seen you so motionless before a party," I remarked as I carefully took him by the shoulders and sat him upright.

"Well, we didn't get much sleep last night with Elrond stomping around on the boat like a horse the way he did," he replied as he rubbed his eyes. "And then you teased me so mercilessly this afternoon…"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I murmured in a tone that was completely devoid of apology, leaning forward and pressing a brief but rough kiss onto his lips. "I'll be sure not to do that any more."

His eyes widened. "I didn't say to stop! But perhaps we should schedule that sort of thing for days where we aren't expected at parties…"

I laughed. "Duly noted, my love. Now, much as it pains me to do this, I must ask you to put some clothes on before we leave for the party."

Glorfindel bit his lip a little but complied, standing and retrieving some underwear.

"Are people normally angry here?" I asked out of the blue.

Glorfindel looked up from the buttons he was fastening on his robe. "No, not at all," he answered in surprise. "People here are usually very happy indeed, more so than our folk in Imladris, even. Why do you ask?"

"I ran into someone rather unfriendly on the way back here from the office."

"Oh?"

"Mmm, I bumped into him on the way back here, and he was rather hostile, even though I apologised. Called me a 'mentally vacant individual.'" I chortled at the insult.

Glorfindel, however, did not see the humorous side in it. "Who was he?" he asked, his chest puffing a little in indignation.

I shrugged. "No idea. Didn't catch the name. I don't doubt if he is as anomalous as you say, he'll stand out well enough."

"Hmm," Glorfindel grumbled. "He hasn't made a shining first impression."

At that moment, the dinner bell rang through the corridor. Glorfindel quickly finished dressing and we made tracks for the dining hall.

Elves have very different ideas of what constitutes a surprise party compared to what I had seen during my mortal days. Being the creatures of eternal beauty and dignity that they purport themselves to be, Elves are fundamentally disinclined to hide themselves away and then leap out at the unsuspecting guest of honour. That sort of ambushing behaviour was strictly for wartime.

No, _their_ idea of a surprise party was to have everything in full swing by the time the intended recipient arrived and pretend the person had come at just the right moment, somehow slipping in there that the party had been thrown on their behalf. No screams, shouts or cardiovascular event risks.

Thankfully, this no-nonsense approach to parties meant it was much easier to feign a surprised response. No need to jump and scream, no trying to pull off a halfway convincing surprised face. You could hear these parties from a mile off.

"What's going on here, then?" I asked as we walked into a rather busy, lively dining hall. "Somebody's birthday, is it?"

Celebrían rolled her eyes at me as she and Elrond walked over.

"It's a surprise party for all you newcomers, Rhodri," she replied with a laugh.

"Oh, my!" Glorfindel sang, looking thrilled to bits. His joy, unlike his surprise, wasn't manufactured in the slightest.

Celebrían squinted at Glorfindel suspiciously and her eyes flicked over to where a rather guilty-looking Bregedúr stood with Galwen and Gloredhel, who were also rather nervous. They hastily busied themselves with getting some food, which made them look like they were gatecrashers trying to make off with a wheel of cheese.

"This is why people like us need friends like the two of you," I said to Celebrían and Elrond out of the corner of my mouth as we watched their ridiculous attempt at looking innocent. "Someone a bit calm and sensible to help keep the lie going."

The two of them looked at me. "We know," Elrond said dryly, a contented smile spreading over his face now.

"Ugh, no need to be smug about it." I rolled my eyes softly.

The party was great. The music, lively and cheerful, played in the background at a volume that managed to be perfect for cutting the rug to, but still managed to allow for conversation if one chose to sit it out. The Valinor Elves loathed wasting, so the tables were never loaded to capacity with perishables, but rather kept it looking as though what was there never ran out by restocking it at regular intervals. Even so, though, the banquet was opulent and had me registered as a frequent visitor.

On one of the many occasions I stood by this table and made short work of a pastry, a familiar face at the entryway caught my eye.

"Bregedúr," I whispered to her, nudging her gently and jerking my head at the door. "Who's that guy there?"

The guy in question was Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy from earlier today. He stood at the doorway with a distinctly sour look on his face as he surveyed the merriment in front of him.

"Oh, that's Caranthir," Bregedúr replied. "I'd give him a wide berth if I were you. If you thought _my _temper was bad, wait 'til you run into _him."_

"Been there, done that," I muttered with a laugh as I looked over at him again. He seemed almost glued to the spot, and I couldn't help but wonder if he wanted to join the party. If he were grumpy and really didn't care, surely he would have simply walked on by.

Going against Bregedúr's better judgement, I gave him a friendly wave and beckoned him over. Bregedúr elbowed me in the ribs and hissed, "What are you _doing, _you cursed fool! I just told you to leave him alone."

Caranthir's eyes fell on me and he looked properly riled. One side of his lips hitched up to bare his teeth just a little, and I'm quite sure if he could have gotten away with force-feeding me poison, he'd have done it. However, some modicum of good manners forced him to content himself with stomping off out of sight.

"What did you do that for?" Bregedúr demanded when she was sure he was out of sight.

"Why not invite him in? I'm not afraid of him."

"_You_ might not be, but we aren't all as capable of winning a fight against him as you are," she replied, hands on her hips. "Don't you know who he is?"

"Hmm. The name rings a bell," I pondered aloud, tapping my foot a little as I racked my brains for snippets of useful information.

"The son of Fëanor, Rhodri! The _angry_ son of Fëanor, no less," Bregedúr said after an impatient moment.

"Fëanor?" I repeated as I looked up. "The guy who made the Silmarils?"

"The very one."

"Oh, well, it's no wonder he's in such a terrible mood all the time, then," I said as the penny dropped for me. "I doubt I'd be very cheerful if I'd grown up with a father like that."

"In either case, he's not the sort of person to confront. He's far too easily provoked, and I don't think he would be afraid to use violence to make his point. Try to stay away from him, all right?"

I bit my lips and looked at Bregedúr, trying to make my grey eyes as big and innocent as possible.

"I'm not joking, Rhodri! He's best left alone."

"Can't hurt to offer a bit of help. He doesn't have to take it if he doesn't want to," I shrugged. "I've worked with bad-tempered people before."

"Right, we're not staying on this topic a moment longer. Come on," Bregedúr said firmly as she marched me back over to where the others were sitting.

"We were wondering when you two were going to return," Glorfindel said with a smile as I took a seat beside him.

"At least you've finally come back. Now we can start the discussion in earnest," said Celebrían.

I blinked. "What discussion would that be?"

"The one about restoring this city," Galwen replied genially. "We've just come to the crucial part about who assumes what roles."

"Oho, exciting," I grinned.

"Elrond did a magnificent job of running Imladris," Bregedúr said. "He would be an excellent nominee for the title of Lord of Alqualondë."

Elrond shook his head. "I am too tired to run an entire realm single-handedly again. What about Gil-Galad?"

"I am already the Prince of Tirion," Gil-Galad declined. "That is enough for me, I think."

Others forewent the position because they had no interest in a management position, or hadn't the time for it, or weren't in the area often enough to keep up with the commitments.

I looked at Glorfindel. "We could do it, couldn't we?" I asked him.

Glorfindel's eyes twinkled with excitement at the prospect, and he nodded happily. "Yes, what about us?" he announced to the table.

Everyone paused for a moment, looking at us in silence.

"Aren't…" Gil-Galad began carefully, "aren't you two a little… well… _forgetful_ for that sort of leadership?"

"I'd like to remind you that I was the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower before you were even _born_, Gil-Galad," Glorfindel returned, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, and if I recall correctly, you were kept on track largely by the efforts of Ecthelion," Gloredhel reminded his offspring with a similarly cynical expression.

"Mmm, that's quite true, actually," Glorfindel acknowledged, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"And the number of times I've had to remind you to eat doesn't speak much for _your_ organisational capabilities either, Rhodri," Bregedúr chimed in, looking at me pointedly.

I half-shrugged. She had a point. But Bregedúr wasn't interested in a top leadership position, either, so I couldn't just ask her to co-rule with us. There seemed to be a loophole in Elrond's refusal to sign up, though, that gave me an idea.

"Elrond, you said you didn't want to run the place single-handedly. What if we shared the leadership equally, though? Would you be willing to do it then?" Glorfindel nodded fervently and put on his most charming smile for Elrond now.

Intentionally ignoring Glorfindel so as to avoid distractions, Elrond looked straight at me, intrigued, and then at Celebrían.

"Two ruling families, perhaps?" Celebrían suggested. "Both of us and the two of you?" Elrond seemed pleased with the suggestion and nodded in agreement.

I perked up with cautious enthusiasm. "... Yeah? You mean it?"

"Yes, yes, it was a genuine suggestion," Celebrían replied. "Makes a fair ratio of one chaotic leader for every organised one."

"What do the rest of you think?" Glorfindel asked the table.

Everyone made approving sounds. After that, we divided up overseer roles among us. Bregedúr would manage sport and war, Celebrían music and events, Erestor the arts, Elrond oversaw lore and education. Gloredhel, a skilled healer, took control of medicine and other sciences, and Galwen, who was apparently prodigious with all form of _olvar_, was to head that area and agriculture. Glorfindel, with all his charm, made for a perfect trade negotiator for the area's resources and services. And me, well, I ended up with some sort of resident psychologist role again, but now with my finger in the conflict resolution/arbitration pie as well, a sort of solo Supreme Court judge, as it were, with all overseers having the power to veto my decisions. In all, we'd set up quite happy arrangements. All that was left to do was get started.

§

Some weeks passed before we had any sort of meeting deciding what to do. That was hardly a problem; it wasn't as though we were under any time constraints to get things done. The worst thing that threatened proceedings was the risk of a sudden downpour if we were in the middle of painting a building.

Not that we were lacking for things to do, of course. There were a few bags of possessions we had yet to unpack, which I understand was a similar problem among all the other new arrivals, and we had a very busy time continuing to put that task off.

And, of course, new goings-on were a constant as well. About two weeks after our arrival, Glorfindel and I had been sitting with Elrond and Celebrían on the balcony adjoining their study in a joyful resumption of Happy Hour.

"You know what this place is missing?" I said to them as I sipped at my fruit nectar. The three of them looked at me lazily.  
"Mmm?" came from Celebrían.

"A trampoline."

Glorfindel sat up and gasped. "The hammock! Oh, I _knew_ there was something I'd forgotten to pack!" he moaned loudly.

"There must be a weaver's around the place that provides hammocks, surely," I said with a shrug.

"Not really, I'm afraid," Celebrían informed us sadly. "We haven't really restored enough here that there's need for a full-time weaver, and nobody here is skilled in the art."

Glorfindel looked like he was living in a horror movie.

"For now," Celebrían continued, "we journey to Tirion, or have Gil-Galad bring back supplies with him whenever he comes."

"What perfect timing," murmured Elrond, smiling as he looked at something behind us. We turned around to see Gil-Galad and Erestor step out onto the balcony, beaming at us and each clutching a large bottle of some rather fancy-looking beverage.

"Ooh, is that necelyávë nectar?" Glorfindel said with interest as he espied the bottles. Necelyávë, as I had found out the night of our party, was a fruit that bore a remarkable resemblance to a lychee but boasted a mixed flavour of mango and strawberry. Owing to the difficulty that came with growing it, the fruit and its products were considered luxury goods, typically saved for special occasions.

"It most certainly is," Gil-Galad replied as he and Erestor drew up seats around the table.

"Someone's birthday? Or conception day?" I guessed.

"Not even close," Erestor said, shaking his head.

"No. Ah… you see…" Gil-Galad began, blushing a little as he spoke. Elrond, Celebrían, and Glorfindel looked at Gil-Galad in concern. It wasn't often that he showed signs of embarrassment, usually very adept at covering such feelings up.

"Gil-Galad? Are you all right?" Elrond enquired, scanning his friend for any sign of trouble.

"Oh, yes. Quite fine, thank you," he replied. "It's just that you might not have known anything about it, that's all…"

"About what?"

"Well… ah…" Gil-Galad's head was like a tomato with hair and a circlet now, and he glanced shyly over at Erestor, who smiled at him sweetly.

Something went off in my head, and I resisted the urge to look at their index fingers lest I give anything away, forcing my eyes instead to stay on their faces. I hadn't followed up with Erestor about it yet, having decided it was best to leave it at least a month before making my enquiries.

"You see," Gil-Galad tried again. "We- Erestor and I, that is- we're… ah… betrothed." The last word was almost silent, his voice had gone so quiet. He reached out and took Erestor's hand in his as he watched us nervously.

Well, I was so thrilled I was rendered speechless and was positively vibrating with enthusiasm, but the others sat in a thunderstruck silence as they gaped at Gil-Galad and Erestor. Apparently, Erestor had never disclosed to the others that he was head over heels for Gil-Galad, and Gil-Galad certainly hadn't spoken about it, so this was the first news any of them had ever had of either party's love life.

Just as Gil-Galad was about to pass out from the nerves of it all, the entire table broke out in the most chaotic, loud noise that was ever produced by four people. Glorfindel let out a wild shriek and started banging on the table with his hands, and Elrond and Celebrían were clapping so hard I thought they'd break their fingers, shouting incoherently. I, too, was cheering loudly, and as soon as I got up to pull them into a congratulatory embrace, the other three flew out of their seats and snatched us all up in their arms.

It took some minutes before even a single understandable sentence was produced, but when that moment arrived, they came thick and fast.

"I just can't believe it-"

"_So_ delightful!"

"Had no idea, none at all-"

"When's the big day?"

"Just cannot _believe_ it!"

"Best surprise we've had in an age, really-"

Gil-Galad had returned to a normal colour now and he uncorked one of the bottles to fill everyone's glasses.

"The wedding is exactly one year from now," he said in a much calmer, easy tone. "That's about all we know so far."

"We're still deciding whether to have it here or in Tirion," Erestor added. "Tirion seems the obvious choice because of Gil-Galad's title and the fact that it has the capacity for more guests, but we love it here best." He looked longingly out over the balcony at the ocean.

"Look, we can have this place ready for you within a year, I think," I quickly said to the two of them, the others nodding in agreement.

Gil-Galad raised his eyebrows. "That is a very ambitious project you're proposing, Rhodri."

"A bit of ambition never killed anyone," I said airily before stopping. "Well, not many, anyway."

"I'm sure it's feasible," Glorfindel said confidently. "If that's what you want, we'll see to it that you get it. Isn't that right Elrond, Celebrían?" We both turned to them, and they knew that there was only one right answer.

Fortunately, though, they needed no convincing of that, and they beamed and nodded.

"Absolutely," Elrond said as he took a sip of the nectar. "Whatever your hearts desire."

"We'd best get started tomorrow," Celebrían murmured. "And we can have a party at the end of the week, perhaps, yes?"

Erestor and Gil-Galad seemed to glow as they smiled at us. I don't think anyone's face slipped into a neutral position until the dinner bell rang, and even then it was a rare occurrence.

That evening as I lay in bed, I didn't especially feel like sleeping, finding myself in a particularly energetic sort of mood. Whether I'd simply settled in to life in Valinor and had more room in my head to bounce around, or Erestor and Gil-Galad's news had given me a surge of excitement, I wasn't sure. Either way, I carefully slipped myself out from under Glorfindel and repositioned him over a pillow, and after getting dressed, I went off in pursuit of a small adventure.

The night air was balmy and the sky, littered with stars, glowed brightly. My favourite kind of evening, I thought to myself happily as I walked barefoot on the grass. I decided I'd use the opportunity to stroll around the town and see what I wanted to start work on first. Large parts of Alqualondë had been left to decay after the disastrous Kinslaying that had occurred several ages prior. Before that, it had been a bustling beachside city, home to the musical Teleri Elves. The place was famous for its shipbuilding, marine adventuring, and the lovely sandy shore that could be spotted from ages away. When Fëanor, ever the shit-stirrer, had decided to depart Valinor for Middle-Earth in pursuit of Morgoth, he bustled into Alqualondë and harassed the Teleri for their ships. The Teleri weren't keen to just surrender their boats to a brash, rude individual like Fëanor, which caused some contention between the Teleri and the Noldor (Fëanor's bunch) that quickly escalated into a full-on war that killed quite a number of Noldorin and absolutely devastated the Telerin.

I could feel the bad vibes in the place the further into the dilapidated city I got. There had been no love or tenderness given to the buildings over thousands of years, and I knew we had quite a task ahead of us getting all this looking nice within a year.

As I strolled around, whistling cheerfully to myself, I espied a large, magnificent building that was replete with interesting quirks. Even its shape, with tall, wavy spires at the top, was different. The railings on the balconies looked like a series of long, graceful swan necks. It was covered from top to bottom in damage from millennia of neglect, but as my father would say when he saw a place like this, it had 'good bones.'

I walked around the building and the surrounds before deciding to head back for the night, and as I wandered through the darkness, still tweetling away to myself, an angry voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Will you _stop_ that infernal whistling!"

I froze and, before I could stop myself, said in disgruntlement to the apparently bodiless voice, "Hey, that was a good song! Queen's a great band!"

"I care not one bit what you think of the song!" A bad-tempered, stompy sort of figure started to materialise from the shorefront, who on closer inspection appeared to be Caranthir (quelle surprise).

"Look, mate," I said calmly, "I'm happy enough to observe noise ordinances, but this is an abandoned town, and I'm _whistling._ It's not like I'm playing a horn or bashing on a drum."

Caranthir strode up until he was almost directly in front of me and stared down at me from a rather great height.

I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Besides which, you're going to have to get used to noise around these parts for the next little while. I intend to do some repairs in the buildings of an evening, and though it will be fairly quiet, I can guarantee you won't like it, if my whistling bothers you this much."

He scowled. "I can't get any peace in the day from fools like you, and now you want to plague me at night as well?"

"Plague you?" I repeated coolly. "Don't flatter yourself, Caranthir, you're not _that_ special."

This was the wrong move, because he flew into a noisy rage, shouting obscenities and pointing at me threateningly. I stood calmly and waited for him to finish, which he eventually did after a few minutes. When he fell quiet, I took the opportunity to speak again.

"Caranthir, don't you ever get tired of being so easily annoyed?" I asked in a serene, polite voice.

My eyes darted down and I saw his fists bunch up. "How- how dare-" he started to spit.

"It's a perfectly reasonable question," I interrupted him. "I've seen you on three occasions so far, and every time, you've been like a raging bull. It's not fun being angry, especially like this."

His piercing blue eyes were wide with fury and his nostrils flared as he snarled, "Cease your foolish musings! You know nothing!"

"Oh, don't let the appearance mislead you," I said nonchalantly. "I'm not as foolish as I look. I know plenty about anger management issues. I'm a psychologist."

"A _what?"_ he hissed in spite of himself.

"Psychologist. Like a healer, but for everything that goes on up here," I tapped the side of my head with one finger, "and here," then moved my finger to over my heart.

"Charlatanry," he barked.

"Oh, you think so, do you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why don't you prove it? We could make a bet of it."

Caranthir's brows knitted, but his face had intrigue and a lust for competition written all over it.

"Go on," he said slowly.

"I bet that if you enter therapy and follow my instructions to the letter, I could make a real difference to your anger in about… mmm… say, three months. If I win, I'll whistle wherever I please, and if I lose, whenever you tell me to stop whistling, I'll stop, no arguments. What do you say?"

Caranthir smiled a little. "Very well. I look forward to peace and contentment in three months' time."

"As do I," I replied crisply. "Session one starts tomorrow after dinner. Come to my office, which is in that big house where I ran into you a couple of weeks ago. Middle floor, western wing, right in the corner. If you get lost, ask for Rhodri. Have a pleasant evening."

Without another word, I stepped around him and made my way back to my room.


	81. I don't negotiate with temper-ists

**Annabelle**: yep, got it in one! Her last name makes for an interesting explanation to the Elves, who don't really subscribe to the concept of surnames. I thought about putting in a scene where Elrond, etymology aficionado, asked about the background of her last name and got incredibly weirded out by the answer (Fanshawe has a rather morbid meaning). If there's demand for it, I might put in a chapter with a handful of one-shots with some of the curious stuff that didn't quite make it into the main story.

**Caitriona**: I got curious and started a little sleuthing, seems that it's a hyphenated name because of where Tolkien wanted the emphasis on the second syllable of Gil-Galad's name rather than the first, which would come rather intuitively. Seems legit when you read through the first few lines of The Fall of Gil-Galad.

**Deborah**: No clue. In my story, they sleep with their eyes shut where possible. Unless they possess some kind of magical lachrymal gland that flushes the eye, I don't see how they could keep the surface of the eyeball moist when their eyes are open for so long. Tolkien probably could've written an entire textbook on the anatomy and physiology of the Elves and I'd have eaten it up with a spoon.

**Ashley**: It's kind of ambiguous, so I worked with it like this: spirits of dead Elves (even the very naughty ones) go to Mandos, and they wait there to be re-embodied. All but one of Fëanor's progeny died, and so I presumed they, too, went to Mandos, just like Fëanor did upon his death. Fëanor is the only known character to have remained in Mandos's halls and not be re-embodied, so I simply assumed that Caranthir and co. were eventually re-embodied and left to navigate the awkwardness of post-war Valinor. Caranthir, as you can see, didn't really handle it that well.

**Sherry**: Elrond's got some immediate relief, but just how deep it goes, for both him and Celebrían, remains to be seen.

**earthdragon**: Yeah, where IS that Olwë, anyway? Lazy sod shouldn't be leaving it up to someone else to run the damn place. Let's hope he turns up at some point.

§

This whole confidentiality thing was a bit of a drag at times. I would have loved to stir Bregedúr up by telling her about the run-in I'd had with Caranthir. Instead, I had to content myself with the knowledge that at least in the coming months, I'd be able to whistle freely and, with any luck, that Caranthir wouldn't be such a foul-tempered git.

When the next day made an appearance, the committee, as I'd called the group of us who had planned to do the place up, sat talking over breakfast.

"Hey, I did a little exploring last night and found a really fascinating-looking building in need of some work," I said to them. "Can we start with that one?"

"Certainly," Celebrían said. "What does it look like?"

I ended up not being able to describe it with words especially well and ended up resorting to interpretive dance at the table as I attempted to explain the structure's shape and the patterns, bending and waving my arms like I'd been on a four-day drug high. This was not especially helpful, because all it did was earn staring and a few strained expressions.

"Tell us again about the shape of the spires at the top, Rhodri," Bregedúr said with a grin, making a few people titter behind their glasses.

"You people are so immature," I replied with a groan. "My demonstrations are for educational purposes only. If you're going to abuse my moving diagrams for your own mirth, I'd sooner take you outside myself and show you the building."

Though this seemed to be the less desired option, they accepted, quickly finished their food, and allowed themselves to be led down the deteriorated footpath to the building in question.

"Isn't it lovely?" I said as I gestured grandly at it. "There must be enough room for ten families here!"

"I don't believe this was a residential building, actually," murmured Gil-Galad as he walked up and inspected it. "It looks more like a place for formal occasions- hosting visits from Ingwë and other visiting dignitaries, meetings, parties, that sort of thing."

"So the kind of place, in theory, where one could have a befittingly large wedding?" I suggested with an innocent shrug.

Erestor looked extremely pleased at this prospect; not only was it a grand structure, the house was also a stone's throw from the beachfront (apparently his primary selling point). Gil-Galad did, too, but when he glanced over at Erestor and saw his face, it completely sealed the deal.

With that settled, we got started. There was quite a lot of work ahead of us; Elven structures, it seemed, weren't all that resistant to the damage of the salty beach air either. Though the white hardwood that made up the outer structure and supports was still perfectly fine, it needed to be washed down to get the salt off it and small flecks of rust stains from the exposed metalworks.

By far and away, though, the majority of our work lay in the interior. As we stepped inside, something I hadn't done during my nocturnal wandering, a collective gasp escaped us. Keeping in mind that one of the Kinslayings had occurred here, there had probably been Teleri Elves who had tried to hide out in here but were caught and subjected to brutal treatment at the hands of the Noldor. The place looked like a crime scene, with ancient, dried blood liberally spattered up the walls and broken furniture everywhere. Well, realistically, it was a crime scene. And a dreadful one at that.

"Lord have mercy," I breathed, totally aghast. Perhaps the only saving grace was that there were no bodies still in there. Someone, at least, had had the decency to take those out and give them a decent resting place. I turned to face the others. "I realise this is a very confronting scene right now. Anyone who finds it particularly disturbing should perhaps work on the outside."

Elrond, presumably still very raw from everything in Middle-Earth, gave a nod and headed outside, followed by Celebrían. While they started work cleaning the salt and rust off the wood, the rest of us began our careers in trauma cleaning. We started by hauling out all of the furniture and washing the entire interior, which between the seven of us took the entire day. Everyone had forgotten about both lunch and Happy Hour, working right up until the dinner bell rang.

"We're going to have to repaint the walls and sand back and re-lacquer all the floors," I said as we walked back up to our house to eat, covered in sweat, dust, and salt. "There's no way we'll clean the blood off any of that."

"I'm not sure how much of that furniture is salvageable, either," Glorfindel murmured thoughtfully.

"That could make for a pleasant sort of project for us," Elrond said as he gestured at himself and Celebrían. "Celebrían can already make instruments, so she is proven skilled in woodwork, and I've always wanted to give restoration a try."

"I love it when a plan comes together."

After dinner, Elrond and Celebrían proposed a compensatory Happy Hour which I excused myself from to collect a jug of water and get to my office. When I arrived, I saw Caranthir stalking around in the corridor, looking quite irritated.

"Ah, you found the place," I called out to him, making him turn around. "Jolly good."

"You could have moved a little faster," he snapped. "I was wondering if I had come to the wrong place."

Caranthir failed to keep in mind that dinner was still officially happening, but the committee and I had finished early. His grouchiness belied a clear interest in attending the session, and nervousness about showing up at the wrong place and missing out had manifested as anger.

"Ah well," I said calmly, smiling a little. "You need wonder no more. Shall we begin?"

Caranthir nodded and made an irked grunt and as I opened the door, he went inside and took a seat.

"Now," I began as I poured him a glass of water. "Before we get started, there's a couple of things we need to go through first."

He took the glass of water and nodded stiffly.

"First we need to discuss what you can expect from me in these sessions—"

"Very little," he interrupted, curling his lip a little.

"Caranthir," I looked at him seriously, shedding all outward pleasantness, "if you're really intent on going through with this bet, it's well to remember that the bet was conditional on your following my instructions. That means that if you decide to proceed, you have to fully participate in these sessions to the best of your ability. What have you got to lose? Your temper is obviously holding you back from doing a lot of things."

"What makes you so sure?" Caranthir sneered softly.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I've never seen someone hang around and watch a party the way you did who didn't actually want to participate."

His scornful smile twisted into a frown. I continued.

"I'm perfectly aware you're not a popular figure, but I think things could change for you."

I heard a tiny snort, but he wasn't actively trying to stop me from talking, which was about as close of an invitation to keep talking as I could've hoped for.

"Therapy can be very confronting, because it forces you to examine parts of yourself, thoughts, memories that might hurt to go near. Some of them might be secrets that nobody else knows of. So it's important that you know whatever you divulge to me in these four walls will stay between the two of us. The only time I can break that promise is if you say something that makes me reasonably believe you'll hurt yourself or others, at which point I'll have to speak to someone in authority. That all clear?"

"Of course it is," he barked. "Do I look stupid to you?"

"I don't care for that particular term," I replied briefly. "And in any case, it is extremely important to be sure that you know what you're getting into. I think you're underestimating what happens in therapy, which brings me to my next point: you can stop this any time you want. You don't even have to _start _therapy if you don't wish to. We don't need to carry this bet out at all. It's immaterial. I am certain that we can reach a compromise with my whistling. I won't ever use either of those as tools to get you to come to therapy if you don't want to."

Caranthir squinted at me, his face a mixture of confusion and intrigue. "So I could just stand up and walk out right now, then?"

I nodded. "Absolutely. If you wish to avoid my whistling, we can inform each other ahead of time where we intend to be and simply give each other a wide berth. No sound reaches you, and I can warble to my heart's desire."

He sat quietly as he digested my words. After a moment, he snorted and stood up. As he started for the door, I spoke up again.

"Know, though, that if you ever _did_ want to do something about your anger, you can always come to me during clinic hours, totally confidential, and for as many or few sessions as you like."

Caranthir turned back to look at me, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't interested in seeing what sort of fraudster scheme you have here."

"Well, you're welcome to indulge your curiosity as please, but you have to accept a couple of conditions of your own."

"Oh?"

"For a start, I expect to be afforded the same respect that every person deserves, both as an individual and in the capacity of my job. I don't stand for the kind of insults that you've been throwing around the last few times we've come into contact with each other, and I will end the therapy if you cannot behave appropriately." I raised my eyebrows at him and his face started to flush.

"Secondly," I continued before he could say anything, "I only use methods that have a large base of evidence to show that they work for most people. I know how effective they are, but they're guaranteed not to work if you're not actually going to put the effort it takes to implement them. So don't go signing up to this if you're just going to waste both your and my time with half-heartedness and snide comments. Therapy demands a lot of bravery and dedication to work properly."

To my surprise, he took his hand away from the doorknob and wandered back over to me.

"So you don't think I can do this?" he said, trying to challenge me.

"I didn't say that. I'm quite sure you can flourish in this, but if you're not genuinely interested, what's the point?"

His lip curled a little. "Very well," he said as he quickly sat back down in his seat. "Let's try it, then."

"All right. Well, we'll just go through a couple more things quickly…"

After going through a brief description of my job and the usual stuff on the contract, I got his signature and that was that.

"We won't start anything tonight. Let's meet up at the same time in a week from now. As a preliminary exercise, I want you to keep a track of your anger on any three of the days leading up to next session. Nothing difficult, just keep a piece of paper on you and whenever you feel annoyed, write a couple of words describing what happened just before that. All right?"

Caranthir started to roll his eyes but then stopped when he saw me looking at him with my eyebrows raised. "Your choice, Caranthir," I reminded him.

He sighed and nodded his head. "Very well. Next week, then." Without another word, he stood up and left.

There were two reasons I didn't want to begin any sort of therapy with Caranthir that evening. Primarily, I wanted him to take some time to digest the conditions of therapy and consider what sort of attitude he intended to show up to my sessions with, and to be sure he even _wanted _to get any help from me. Additionally, though, I wanted to leave it a week so he had a chance to practice some very basic self-awareness by being forced to make notes of his own behaviour. Doing it by himself meant that I wasn't target practice in the very earliest phase of what was going to be a rather uncomfortable time for him.

As I checked my watch and saw that only half an hour had passed, I realised I might yet have enough time to still catch the last bit of Happy Hour. Quickly, I threw Caranthir's file into the drawer and locked it, and scuttled out of my office, hoping that there was still some of that nectar left.


	82. The calmer side of a thunder cloud

**Author's note: **Terribly sorry for the delay on this one! I was struck by a moment of indecision on whether to make it one longer chapter or two short ones. You'll be able to see for yourself which I ended up choosing. Keep safe, sip that water, and if you can eat some fruit or veg, definitely do that! You're important and are doing a great job in these trying times!

§

After spending so much time on a boat doing absolutely bugger all, I'd quite forgotten how much manual labour makes time fly. By the time the weekend had rolled around, I could scarcely believe we'd sped through five days already.

In the space of that five-minute week, we'd gotten an incredible amount done to the Celebration House, as we'd named it. We'd repainted and lacquered all of the floors and walls, and Elrond and Celebrían had made short work of cleaning the exterior and had somehow salvaged or repurposed most of the broken furniture we'd hauled out on that first day. All in all, the place was really starting to come up beautifully. It really stood out among the other buildings, having the notorious distinction of being the only one of them who had been given a shred of attention in a handful of millennia.

"If we keep going at this rate, the Celebration House will be finished by the end of next week, I think," I said to the committee one evening as we strolled back up to the house for dinner. The others made murmurs of agreement.

"You know, Rhodri, I really thought it was an over-ambitious sort of goal to set at first, restoring all of Alqualondë within a year, but I've never been more pleased to eat my words," Gil-Galad remarked. "It is looking more and more feasible by the day, if the fruits of our labours now are anything to go by."

We all smiled and nodded as we looked around us. Many of the other buildings were smaller than the Celebration House, and would hopefully prove to be proportionally less work to re-establish as well.

"The only question is where we will avail ourselves of enough paint and varnish to do all of the buildings," Galwen wondered thoughtfully. "We certainly don't have the resources as our current supplies stand."

"Perhaps that calls for a journey to Tirion sometime soon, then," Elrond suggested. "We could all go together."

Erestor made an enthusiastic noise. "What an excellent idea!" He looked at Gil-Galad, eyes shining happily. "We haven't announced the betrothal to anyone there yet. Why not deliver the news in person?"

Though he was never the kind to conceal how much he cared for his friends and the people under his rule, Gil-Galad had always been very tight-lipped about his romantic life. It would have felt strange, awkward almost, to suddenly see him so love-struck were it not for the fact I was so relieved he and Erestor had actually gotten together. He looked back at his spouse-to-be tenderly, and it was clear that he was perfectly content to give Erestor whatever his heart desired.

"Certainly," Gil-Galad said quickly. "In two weeks, then, perhaps? No sense in delaying."

"Sounds like a plan!"

§

After dinner, I made for my office with the customary jug of water. When I got there, Caranthir was nowhere in sight. I shrugged and went inside, leaving the door open so that he knew someone was there. Once I'd pulled out his file, I picked up my guitar and strummed it gently to pass the time until he arrived.

After I'd gotten through a couple of songs, he still hadn't turned up. Frowning, I put the guitar down and as I went to get up to look outside, a knock came at the door, and Caranthir materialised shortly after.

"Ah, good evening," I said with a smile. "Come on in, Caranthir. Sit down and make yourself comfortable."

His face was severe, but he entered the room quite calmly, closing the door behind him and taking a seat.

"I haven't seen you since our last session," I said as I unscrewed the lid of my pen. "How has your week been?"

"Well enough, I suppose," he replied gruffly.

I nodded. "Were you able to get those three days of observations I asked of you?"

"I was."

"Right, well, let's have a look at what you've written. Have you got it with you right now?"

He looked at me sharply. "You mean you want to see it?"

"Ideally, yes."

Caranthir glared at me as he squirmed in his chair uncomfortably. After a moment, though, he seemed to give in. Almost resentfully, he plunged a hand into his robes, extracted a folded-up piece of paper, and slammed it on the desk.

I folded my hands and looked at him closely. "You don't have to share anything you don't want to, Caranthir. I'm not here to coerce you to tell me your secrets. What you are willing to share is something you need to decide on your own, and I will always respect your boundaries."

"Why didn't you say that before?" he grumbled before folding his arms like a sulking child.

"I believe I said it about ten times in our last session," I raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course, the more information you can give me, the easier it will be for me to give you tools you'll actually find useful."

Caranthir's nostrils flared and his brows knitted, and he looked like he was doing his utmost to keep his temper.

"What are you thinking about right now?"

"That this has all been a mistake."

"Why do you think it was a mistake?"

"If I'd kept my foolish mouth shut when you were whistling and just let you walk past, I never would have ended up in your office or have thrown away three perfectly good days taking notes on myself like a child observing a fly!"

"You've had numerous opportunities to walk away from all this. Do you think there is something in you that is persuading you to continue?"

There was a pause as he appeared to consider my question, his icy eyes moving slowly from thing to thing in my office all the while.

"I imagine it is that I have already invested my time into this, and I may just as well put in a little more to satisfy my curiosity."

I nodded. "That's a perfectly valid reason. In which case, let's find a way to measure what we're doing here so you can compare the before and after, yes?"

This seemed reasonable to him, and he made a gesture indicating as much.

"Now that you know what I do, and that you have an idea of what effort will be needed on your part, what do you consider a feasible goal to set for yourself in therapy? Something you can reasonably strive for given whatever work you're willing to put into this."

"You make it sound as though I should choose a very small goal," he murmured defensively.

I shrugged. "You can make your it as large or small as you want. If you're only in this to see if my therapy is effective, though, you'll get just as much of an answer if you choose something with low stakes. Curiosity on its own likely won't motivate you enough to do anything more demanding. If you lose interest, all that time you've put in is a waste. I'm just being logical."

Caranthir pursed his lips and went quiet for a long time, appearing to rack his brains for a goal that fit what he was after. After giving him a couple of minutes and finding the silence stretched on beyond that, I spoke up again.

"Let's come back to the goal in a moment. How did you find the preparatory exercise I gave you?"

Seemingly jerked out of his head, Caranthir looked almost placid for a moment before slipping into his usual bad humour.

"Oh. Hm. Well, time-consuming, certainly," he muttered.

"Did it make you aware of anything you weren't before?"

"In what sense?"

"Well, for example, if you think about the number of times you recorded yourself getting angry over those three days, was it higher or lower than you had expected it to be?"

Another pause ensued as he glanced at the folded-up piece of paper on my desk, and then away at the wall.

"It… ah… well, I suppose…" he began, looking rather discomfited now.

"Again, you don't need to answer anything you don't want to. Sometimes you only need the answer for yourself," I reminded him mildly.

Reluctantly, Caranthir dragged his eyes up to meet mine, and to my surprise, he put his hand on the piece of paper and gently pushed it in my direction.

"Would you like me to look at this?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Okay."

I picked it up and unfolded it. Each of the three days was packed with neat dot points outlining the various things that had provoked Caranthir. Sometimes completely inconsequential things had come up, like _no honey left, _or _someone humming, _or _dropped my sword. _Other things carried more weight, like _thinking of Galadreth, _and _isolated, _and _my father._

"I get the impression it was more than you had anticipated."

A frown spread over his face, but he nodded again.

"Caranthir, I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to be completely honest in your answer, whether you tell me or you keep it to yourself."

He grunted and gestured for me to speak.

"Do you think you have a problem with your anger?"

His brows drawn, he replied coolly, "You already implied that I do, that night where you were whistling."

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter what I think. I want to know what _you_ think."

Caranthir scowled a little. "It does cause some trouble for me, yes," he admitted ruefully.

"Does it cause enough trouble that you would like to do something about it? And by that, I mean really give it a good try."

I could have sworn I caught a hint of vulnerability in him as he looked up at me, eyes flashing. He exhaled shortly and sharply through his nose before he nodded once.

I nodded back. "All right. Well, let's have a think about goals related to that. Going by your notes here, it looks like you average around…" I did a quick count of the dot points. "Around thirty instances of feeling angry each day. If we meet once or twice every couple of weeks for, say, twelve weeks, how much do you think would be a reasonable number to reduce those angry instances to?"

Caranthir tapped a finger on his lips. "Perhaps cutting down by a third or even a half?"

"That sounds like a great goal, and definitely feasible if you're willing to put in the work," I nodded encouragingly. "We can set that as the preliminary goal and adjust it as needed once we get into it a little bit, all right?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You'll let me adjust my goal even when it makes it easier for you to lose the bet?"

I smiled. "Oh, yes. The bet, like I said before, is immaterial. My practice prioritises the wellbeing of you and my other clients. I've had less stranger things than losing a bet happen in the course of my job, rest assured."

I threw my mind back to the inadvertent formation of the Bib-and-Brace Club in my attempt to protect Celebrian's confidentiality and forced myself to suppress a laugh.

Caranthir regarded me with mild bewilderment for a moment before nodding.

"Anyway, if you're ready to start, I'd like to get a little background on your anger."

Caranthir suddenly appeared hugely discomfited.

"You don't need to tell me your life story," I added quickly, after which he visibly relaxed. "I just need enough information to know what I'm working with. Would you be happy with me asking the questions I need to and we can go from there?"

"Go on," he agreed.

"Right. Roughly how long do you think you have had problems with being easily angered?"

"Oh, a very long time," he replied with a wry smile. "My mother can attest to me always having had a hot temper, much like my father." Caranthir paused as he let out a wistful sigh. "Adar had always liked that about me, he said."

"So being hot-headed was encouraged?"

"By my father, yes. Not by my mother. She didn't like it, and I think the gentler ones of my brothers were probably bothered by it, too."

I made a note of that. "Were you as easily angered then as you are now?"

He shook his head sadly. "No, it wasn't until the disaster with the Silmarils started that it worsened. I would guess had I kept a track of my anger back then, my scrap of paper would have ten or fifteen points instead of the thirty you see there. But I was much happier then, you see."

"Mmm, I can believe that," I acknowledged with a nod. "How about losing your temper and shouting at people? How often would you say that happens these days?"

"That doesn't happen all that much now, mostly because people know to avoid me. The only person I've shouted at over the last weeks is you, and that was likely because nobody told you to keep away."

The difference between run-of-the-mill grouchiness and pathological anger manifests in one of two ways: it's overly frequent, or it's overly severe. Someone flying off the handle and shouting at people at a regularity of even a few times a week is enough to have people walking on eggshells. Caranthir seemed to definitely show an excess in the acceptable number of temper tantrums, and he knew it, and what it cost him. He attempted a smile at the observation he had just made, but it turned out more like a grimace.

"Oh, no, I was told, but it's not in my nature to ignore someone unless I have a good reason to," I replied with a small laugh.

Caranthir looked at me like I'd just put my feet in his face. Unperturbed, I continued.

"Back on topic. Let's expand the definition of lose your temper a little bit, then. How often do you find yourself losing your temper by doing things like shouting, throwing or breaking things, or hurting animals?"

"I break a lot of things," he murmured resentfully. "Plates, fences, walls, decorations, glasses, anything really. And as for number, I suppose I destroy enough of them that I run out of possessions to wreck fairly often. In one week, I might lose my temper five or six times and end up smashing something.

"So five to six times a week. How often were you shouting at people when you still had contact with them?"

"I suppose about double that."

I nodded and made a note. For someone who so easily flew off the handle, I thought Caranthir was very calm now. When he was forced to look inward, he became much more placid.

"How do you usually feel after you've lost your temper?"

What a fool I was for jinxing myself like that. As soon as I even vaguely associated Caranthir with calm and serenity, it started going downhill. He scowled, body tensing up, and looked away.

"Would you like to leave that question for now?"

He nodded, still frowning.

"That's fine. Thank you for being honest with me about your boundaries."

Cue another bewildered look. I'd had worse. On I went.

"Now, when you _do_ lose your composure, what sort of things would you say usually cause that?"

Caranthir chewed his lip, casting his eyes onto the list he'd written that I'd put on the table.

"It doesn't take much. It just comes over me like a tidal wave when something irritating happens."

"Give me an example of something that made you lose your temper this week."

He tapped his chin a moment, and I couldn't help wondering if he was having trouble deciding which of the many instances to name.

"Well, two days ago, I was drinking water and wasn't paying attention properly. Some of the water spilled onto my front, and I, ah… threw the glass at the wall and smashed it."

I noted the incident down. "Do you feel that your reaction was an appropriate one for what had happened?"

Caranthir let out a small puff of air. "I think it might have been a little excessive," he confessed.

"How many of your losses of temper occur over relatively small things, do you think?"

"Almost all of them." He put his hands in his lap and stared at his knees. It seemed as though he was finally being forced to see the enormity of his problem.

There are a lot of reasons people fly off the handle a little too readily. Sometimes it's the result of a head injury or a progressive neurocognitive disorder. It could be from using or withdrawing from a drug, medical or otherwise. There's a whole host of issues (e.g. depression, various personality disorders) that can manifest in a very short fuse.

For people whose disproportionate anger can't be explained by another disorder, however, they will usually end up with the diagnosis of intermittent explosive disorder. The name says it all, really. Angry outbursts over relatively insignificant things which come on suddenly and are bad enough in either frequency or severity to hamper your work or personal life. Luckily for me, I wasn't afraid of Caranthir, which was more than could be said for most other people, it seemed.

I still had to rule out a few other disorders first, though.

"There are a lot of disrupted ways of thinking and feeling that can make someone overly hot headed, so I want to ask some questions now that will narrow down the proper cause of your anger, Caranthir. When I know what I'm working with, I'll be able to approach this is the most effective way. Are you happy to proceed, or would you like to take a break?"

Caranthir looked at me strangely. "Nobody has ever asked me if I would like to step away from something for a short while," was all he said for a moment, regarding me with a mixture of curiosity and vague suspicion.

"You'll find that's a rather common feature in therapy with me," I replied, trying not to shake my head in dismay at the abysmal parenting he must have been subjected to. "You set the pace here. You're not meant to endlessly or needlessly suffer in these sessions."

His apprehension grew, but he said nothing more about it, instead inviting me to continue with my differential diagnosis.

"How's your mood on average?"

Caranthir shrugged. "Neutral, I suppose, except when I feel angry."

"So not permeated by constant sadness or worry?"

"Not especially, no. Not unless I actively think of something sad."

I nodded and scribbled his answer down. "Do you have hobbies that you get enjoyment out of doing?"

He squinted at me a little, as though I had just made a rather fatuous remark. "Well, yes, they do give me enjoyment, otherwise I wouldn't be doing them," he replied, his tone ever so slightly irritable.

"Just checking that they still make you happy. When you stop enjoying yourself, that's a problem."

My explanation seemed to be good enough. "Nothing like that," he replied, his voice relaxed again.

Over the next half-hour, he answered a laundry list of questions like these that allowed me to rule out major depression, anxiety, head injuries, personality disorders, and just about any other issue that could account for this huge difficulty in keeping his emotions in check. That left intermittent explosive disorder.

"… _Explosive_ disorder?" Caranthir repeated after I'd explained to him what I believed the underlying problem was. He raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's certainly evocative."

"I thought much the same thing when I first read about it," I agreed. "Now that we've got some answers, we can start talking about what therapy will look like. Over the next twelve weeks, I'd like to take you through some exercises that not only help you to keep your head during stressful times, but also that addresses that sudden, overwhelming urge to get angry in the first place."

"You really think you can do that?" he asked, part sceptically, part nervously.

I shrugged. "I've done it before with more severe cases than yours. Your chances are as good as anyone else's."

He accepted my answer with a slow nod.

"All right. This has been a very long session," I checked my watch and saw that an hour and a half had passed. "Before we wrap things up for tonight, I'm going to teach you a relaxation exercise and set you a task that I want you to complete in the lead-up to our next meeting."

We spent another few minutes going through deep breathing, and then I gave him his homework.

"This builds off these notes a little," I folded up the piece of paper on my desk and handed it back to him. "Look at these for reference if you like. This time, I would like you to pay attention to your anger when it starts to rear its head. For four days out of the next week, write down your thoughts whenever you feel your temper flare. Just one or two sentences, nothing more. Once you've done that, go through that deep breathing exercise a few times until you feel calmer."

Caranthir took the piece of paper and stuck it in his pocket. "That will be quite a time-consuming task," he remarked.

"It will, and we can always readjust the goal as needed. There's no shame in admitting when something is too much, so don't be afraid to tell me if you want to dial it back a little." I gave him a calm smile. "Hang onto that other piece of paper I just gave you and bring it with you next session, all right?"

"Very well."

With that, Caranthir rose and after giving a small nod, he left the room.

I sat in my office for a good half hour after that and almost gave myself a repetitive strain injury from shaking my head so much while I played the guitar. I had been given a few accounts of the disaster that had been Fëanor's life, and the lives of his spouse and children, over the millennia. Elrond had been personally affected by the chaos of the Silmarils, having lost his mother Elwing in it. I'd thought that was miserable enough to listen to. Now, though, I was getting an insight from one of Fëanor's own children, and it was extremely disturbing.

"_I'm not paid enough for this shit," _I whispered to myself. When I stood up and put the guitar away, I locked up the office and ambled my way back along the corridor, running into Glorfindel along the way.

"Ah, there you are," he said fondly, slipping a hand into mine easily as we strolled together. "It must be time for cake, surely."

Some minutes later, when I had a slice of bee sting cake in one hand and an arm around Glorfindel, I decided on closer reflection that I was paid more than sufficiently.

**Psych Notes**

**Intermittent explosive disorder (IED)**

_IED is classified as one of the impulse control disorders (you'll recall that Bilbo's kleptomania is also an impulse control disorder, so that's where it fits in presently.). People with this disorder can snap into a rage at even the slightest provocation, and if they give into the urge to indulge their anger, will often describe a feeling of either relief, shame, or regret afterward._

A: The person has repeatedly failure to prevent a loss of temper in at least one of these two ways:

1\. Verbal aggression such as through tantrums, arguing, or shouting abuse, and/or physical aggression to people, animals, or things that does not damage the object or harm the people/animals. These outbursts have occurred on average **twice a week** for **at least three months**.

2\. **Three or more **instances in which the person has lost their temper and acted violently, causing damage to property, or physical harm to people or animals, **over the past 12 months**.

B: The loss of temper is way out of proportion to what had provoked the person, and was still far too severe even considering whatever other stressful things may be happening in the person's life.

C: These repeated losses of temper are not because of other disorders (e.g. major depression, anxiety, traumatic brain injury, neurocognitive disorders, etc.)

D: The person's inability to keep their temper causes them severe distress, or has a significant impact on their social or working life.

E: The person is over six years of age.

**Differential diagnosis:**

I didn't include too much of the run-of-the-mill questions that Rhodri usually delivers to flesh out a certain disorder. There's such a huuuuge list of them when it comes to teasing out IED because its primary symptom, loss of temper, can be explained by so many other factors. Really, when it comes to differential diagnosis for this one, it's much more a case of working out what it's _not_ than what it _is._ Underlying mood is a big one (lookin' at you, anxiety, bipolar, and depression), as is checking for damage to the brain via a neurocognitive disorder (dementia, vCJD, traumatic brain injury e.g. from concussion).

Also examine whether any substances have come into play- alcohol, prescription or recreational drugs, even the 'softer' things like caffeine and tobacco can make people into grouchy buggers when they've had too much or are in withdrawal.

All of that stuff is fairly straightforward, but things get rather more sticky when you're trying to rule out personality disorders (due to the complex nature of their diagnosis), neurodiversity such as autism and ADHD (the 'anger' may actually have triggers related to sensory overload, among other things), and behavioural disorders such as oppositional defiant disorder and disruptive mood dysregulation disorder (these two are specific to children).

Beyond any psychological issues or stimulants, it's also well to check for bullying, domestic violence, or other signs of extremely stressful events that the person isn't getting help for, as these can, understandably, wreak havoc on someone's forbearance.


	83. Build me up, buttercup

**Author's note: **This is a rather arbitrary sort of announcement, but I'm pretty astonished that there's now some 300 000 words to this thing! For perspective, that's about as much as _The Silmarillion _and _The Fellowship of the Ring_ combined, and averages out to around 100k words a month. I'm honestly not sure which I should offer you good bunch first: my thanks, or my condolences. If you've read this far, though, you deserve accolades for being the ultimate power reader! Thanks for sticking around so far and keeping Rhodri company as she navigates a thoroughly odd life. You make a difference and are important! Keep on keeping on!

§

**earthdragon**: I find it a bit odd, too, but I always found the Valar's overly hands-off approach to be remiss as a whole (hence the other fanfic I'm working on at present). If they can let the kind of atrocities that happened across Middle-Earth unfold because of 'free will,' letting one Elf with anger management issues wander around without much in the way of correction seems only too plausible in my eyes. Especially because they seem happy enough to let the Maiar pick up any slack in that regard (cue Rhodri). :P I'm quite fond of Tulkas in that regard, because he seems to be the only one of the Valar with a bit of gumption.

**Laurie:** I would've liked to reply a bit more privately but it seems you don't have an account so I'll just put my response here: I'm sorry you've had a hard time finding ways to eat good food during the COVID-19 outbreak. It's uncharted territory for a lot of people, and it's perfectly normal to be anxious about things in ways you might not have been before during these times. If I may, though, I'd just like to put a couple of things here that came to mind while I was reading your comment.

First of all, it is very possible to eat a healthy diet based on frozen and packaged foods. Fruit and vegetables that have been frozen are usually put into cold storage not long after harvesting. In many cases frozen fruit and veg actually retain a lot more of their nutritional value than the 'fresh' things you might find in your produce sections as they've had less time to 'decompose.' I'm not sure where you're writing from or what your eating conditions are like, but most supermarkets in countries I've visited have at least a small selection of fruit and veg like stir fry, mixed berries, fruit salad, and other individual or mixed microwavable veggie portions. They're great, cook up well, and are just as good for you as the fresh stuff, so don't feel bad! If you can handle them, get 'em in ya!

One thing I will say, though, regarding your nerves about people touching the packaging of your food is that unfortunately, people absolutely will have handled everything you buy. The coronavirus has been shown to survive outside of a host for quite some days on various surfaces. There's good news, however: you have the power to make it safe for you. You absolutely should wash your hands after handling your groceries and putting them away. You should also wash your hands after touching the packaging when you go to prepare the food or pour some out to eat so that you're not contaminating the food or putting dirty fingers in your mouth. It's that easy :) If you have plastic packaging, you can spritz some hand sanitiser over it and leave it for a few mins, but soap and water will do the trick, too! I'm not going to subject you to a wall of text here (I've got an academic background in nursing, anatomy, a few other science-y things, and now I'm doing a master's in public health, so I could go on a while), but here's what I recommend googling to get yourself up to date: how long COVID-19 lives on surfaces, how to wash your hands, what kills coronavirus (vinegar does not, not do essential oils), and how COVID-19 is transmitted. **_Always look to respected scientific institutions for advice._** That's the bit I can't stress enough. Get your sources from places like the WHO, UNICEF, and if you want to delve a little deeper into the science-y parts of it, I can recommend the Australian CSIRO page. If you or anyone else reading this finds themselves a bit too antsy to look it up, I'll happily talk you through the important stuff with references. Don't ever be afraid to ask for help. :) Like I say whenever I remember to put an author's note: be gentle and kind to yourself. You've got this!

**Adele:** Nah, I'm not a psych. I've got a degree in psychology (among the other crap listed above), so I have _some _background knowledge, but that's nowhere near what it takes to qualify as a clinical psychologist. I started writing this in the hope that I could make info about various mental disorders more accessible to the general populace, and to maybe give a glimpse (albeit a very simplified one) into the challenge of getting a diagnosis. It can be so frustrating not to have any answers when something is wrong, and it can be hard for the psych to reliably get all the info needed to make a proper diagnosis.

§

I seldom slept in Valinor now, finding that I was rather anxious to keep us ahead of schedule with regard to fixing the town. It was only after making the promise that the place would be ready within a year that I realised what a large task I'd actually given myself. Since the night I squabbled with Caranthir on the beach, I was up every evening, using the few hours I had to myself to get a few things done before getting back to bed and spending the last half hour of sleep time doing nothing.

On one of these late evenings, I was in the town centre ripping up the dangerously uneven footpath to lay it anew. I took hold of a particularly large stone and tossed it carelessly behind me when a familiar, deep voice made me jump.

"_Have you settled in well, little one?"_

I spun around and saw Tulkas standing there, holding the rock like it was a tennis ball. He beamed at me, and I grinned back broadly as I sped over to him in excitement.

"_I like it here a lot." _Tulkas looked extremely pleased with my answer.

"_Come, then, have a short pause from your work so we can play awhile like we used to." _He held out a hand for me to climb onto.

"_Play? What did we play?" _I asked as I hopped onto his palm and clambered onto his shoulder.

"_We sparred," _he replied, his bright eyes twinkling as intensely as sunlight on water.

I felt a thrill of adrenaline. A play-fight where I wouldn't have to hold back wasn't something that was offered very often, and I almost literally jumped at the chance.

"_Let's do it."_

With huge speed, Tulkas took off out of Alqualondë and after a few minutes, we could barely see the town's handful of lights, we were so far away from it. He set me on the ground and took a step back, shrinking himself until he stood a few heads higher than me.

"_Are you ready, little Vinyaten?" _he asked cheerfully as he adopted an obvious but relaxed fighting stance.

Though there was a nagging thought in the back of my head that I was probably very much out of practice and as such nowhere near in a fit state to fight with Tulkas, I ignored it and flexed my fingers into fists. "_I was born ready."_

"_I missed that enthusiasm," _he smiled. "_You can land the first blow."_

I strode over to him and, steeling myself, I threw the hardest right hook I could, which hit him with a deafening crack. The force of it sent him back a metre, but he was still upright with his feet on the ground, having dragged a track through the earth beneath him.

"_Good, good," _he said encouragingly, chuckling a little. In the next moment, he reached out and grabbed my arm, and the sparring began. Whenever we managed to hit each other, it let out those same out bangs that rang out over the open grassland. I started getting flashes of memory of us slugging it out in much the same fashion not long after I was created and had met Tulkas, and seemed to remember that the blows we rained on each other always seemed to match the rhythm of the music. It was like we were the percussion section of the orchestra up there, and the more we carried on, the more familiar it all seemed to me.

After half an hour, I was starting to tire. Tulkas was far stronger than me and seemed to exert little energy in subduing me from time to time. I should have saved my breath for the fighting, but curiosity got the better of me and had me talking.

"_So is this issue with Irmo sorted, then?"_ I asked as I dodged a strike.

Tulkas chuckled a little and nodded. "_Yes, I believe it is. After you were taken away, Irmo turned his attentions to your friend Olórin, and so there was nothing more for us to argue over."_

I raised my eyebrows, trying to jab Tulkas in the chest but finding his hand already there, blocking my move with another loud crack upon contact.

"_That seems rather heartless of him, to stir up all this trouble for want of a Maia, only to calmly turn around and find another," _I remarked.

"_Ah, Irmo had a very specific purpose for his protégé," _he replied as he deftly picked me up by the ankle, holding me upside down and smiling merrily. "_He wanted to train someone as a counsellor to the Elves here who would eventually be sent to Arda, using that knowledge to unite the free peoples of the area to crush Sauron and his machinations, you see. You were his first choice because you were bold and venturesome, as unafraid of Sauron as I was of Melkor."_

He laughed as I knocked at the back of his knee and sent us both tumbling to the ground.

"_Young Olórin," _he continued as we lay in a crumpled heap, "_was perhaps a little better at reading others' hearts than you were, but he feared Sauron and was reluctant to leave Valinor. He preferred to stay closer to Nienna and Irmo."_

I dusted my pants off as I stood up, nodding a little. That made sense. Olórin had a way of knowing what was going on in my head. Why he had refused to penetrate Curumo's head was a mystery to me; he probably would have been able to do it effortlessly. I supposed he was suspending his disbelief as he plucked up the courage to stand up to him. I couldn't think why else he didn't do it.

"_Why didn't you let me go to him? Surely you would have wanted me to do something about Sauron."_ The words were out before I even realised what I had asked, but my curiosity had overwhelmed me.

"_I had my own plans for you, little Maia," _he smiled tenderly at me. "_I was training you, building your strength and speed. You were going to go and chain Sauron just as I chained Melkor, and drag him back to Valinor to face our judgement." _

A grin spread across my face in spite of myself. That sounded way more badass than being a peaceful diplomat, and despite my goody two-shoes desire for peace, Tulkas' option had far more appeal.

My Vala laughed heartily at my expression. "_I thought you might like that better. The other Valar, however, were not pleased at the idea of you being able to rip up a landscape in pursuit of evil. I suppose there was a bad taste in their mouths from the last time we'd tried that. You showed every sign of being able to do quite some damage, but your training was cut very short when you were sent off to that other place," _he waved his hand vaguely.

I sighed. "_The Valar move in mysterious ways."_

"_Not all of them. My movements are quite clear," _he smiled as he quickly threw a fist at me. I laughed and caught it, but he was so powerful that the force of it sent me backwards onto the ground with a thud that put a small split in the earth.

"_You're a little out of practice, Vinyaten," _Tulkas said to me pleasantly, his face shining as he stood over me. "_Let's finish for tonight. I'll come and get you some nights for sparring, and we'll build you up again." _He bent down and put me on my feet. Realising that I was quite tired out now, I nodded and Tulkas gave me a gentle shove in the direction of Alqualondë.

"_Get home on your own feet. It's good training for your endurance. Come and find me if you want to play again."_

In a flash, he returned to his colossal, glowing self, and in another he was gone. Alone again, I ran home as fast as I could, and by the time I reached the house and Glorfindel, I was tired enough to want to sit down. After I washed the sweat off myself, I sank onto the bed and decided to take a nap.

Almost without fail, I was the first of the two of us to rise. That morning, though, I awoke to Glorfindel propped up on his side, smiling softly at me.

"Good morning," he murmured. "You must have been tired. Were you out working in the storm last night?"

I frowned a little. "Did we get a storm last night? If we did, I didn't see a trace of it."

"It was a strange storm," Glorfindel replied. "No rain, no lightning, just thunder."

"But… but you need lightning to make thunder…" I said, now hugely confused. "How is it even poss-oh!" Comprehension dawned on me. "You probably heard me sparring with Tulkas!"

He raised his eyebrows a little. "What on earth were you doing to make all that noise?"

I showed him a flash of a memory from the night before, and then it was all clear for him. "Oh, my. No wonder I could hear you. Those must have been some rather heavy blows you dealt to each other."

"Heavy enough that I was a little tired afterwards," I said with a laugh. "Next time I spare with Tulkas, we'll move away a little more so the noise doesn't disturb you." I shuffled over to him and brushed my lips gently over his. "My apologies, beloved."

Glorfindel laughed softly and pressed his mouth against mine a moment before drawing his head back. "Do not tempt me now, sweet one," he murmured with slightly widened eyes as my hands started to wander south. "You slept a little late today, and the others will be waiting for us if we linger overlong."

I bit my lip. "Bugger."

"I'm certain we will be able to resume this later, though." He gave me a small, lopsided smile.

Reluctantly, we crawled out of bed and, once dressed, hurried outside to inhale some breakfast and start the day's tasks.

The workday sped by like it had been launched out of a slingshot. Having finished the Celebration House and its yard, we started repairs on one of the neighbouring houses, a pleasant sort of dwelling big enough for three or four families. It, too, had some signs of a disturbing struggle on the floor and walls, but far less than the Celebration House had had.

After downing tools and wolfing my dinner, I parted with the committee and went upstairs to my office. Caranthir was standing outside, looking quite sombre and almost ashamed.

I smiled and waved at him. "Hello, there!"

Caranthir's wintry eyes went onto me, and he gave me a small nod, not losing a hint of the severeness in his countenance.

"How did your week go?" I asked once we were inside and settled, the door shut and locked.

He looked like I was reading off a list of reasons why everyone hated him. His face twisted in hurt, and he folded his arms over himself as he directed his gaze to his knees.

I waited a few minutes to see if he would speak. He didn't.

"I'm getting the impression something is quite wrong. Has this week been a bad one for you?" I broached carefully.

Caranthir nodded, wringing his left hand with his right one.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

His eyes met mine, and they seemed to ache with sadness and shame as they locked onto me. Caranthir tried to open his mouth, but it seemed to fail halfway through, and he stayed in his frozen silence.

"I can ask you some questions that only require a yes or no answer to get us started, if you think that will help?"

He nodded.

"All right. Was your week bad because of your anger issues?"

Another nod.

"Did a loss of temper cause you to hurt yourself or someone else, or break something important?"

He shook his head.

"Was there some difficulty related to the task I set you for this week?"

Caranthir inhaled deeply through his nose and sighed hard, his brow heavily furrowed now. He didn't respond, instead putting a hand into the pocket of his robes and taking out some folded pieces of paper and placing them on my desk so carefully that I wondered if he was trying especially hard to be gentle in his movements. My suspicion was confirmed when he slowly pushed the papers toward me with an open palm, almost clinically cautious in his attempt to show harmlessness.

I nodded in understanding and took the papers, folding them open. The first page was the one from the prior week's homework, which I set on the desk before turning my attention to the second page.

The first day's observations listing his thoughts before he became angered seemed very telling of what the issue was. _It's my fault I'm alone. I can't make that infernal noise outside stop. My father ruined me. I have nothing to eat._ An awful lot seemed to go through Caranthir's head before he lost his cool, and it appeared to follow a fairly distinct pattern.

As I moved down to the second day's observations, they were much of a muchness, albeit fewer in number. By the third day, they were less than half of the observations than there had been on the first day, and the fourth day had only two things written on it: _I am ruining my treatment and Rhodri will throw me out,_ and _I am a monster. _The fifth day was blank. I got the impression he had gotten so distressed from examining himself that he'd descended into a spiral of panic and upset, rendering him unable to continue.

"Did you stop partway through because the exercise was a bit too confronting for you?"

I heard a curious thick, slightly strangled affirmative grunt. Was he choking on something? Alarmed, I looked up from the paper. Caranthir's face was still in a snarl, but his eyes were brimming with tears and looked desperate.

I quickly poured him a glass of water and reached into a drawer, taking a large piece of fabric from a pile that I'd repurposed from old tunics into handkerchiefs (since disposable tissues weren't a thing here).

"Take as long as you need," I said mildly, handing him the handkerchief. "Have some water and take a few deep breaths."

Caranthir was gripping the arm of his chair so hard that he was liable to snap it off the supports if he moved his hand the wrong way. His breathing was loud and ragged but gradually steadied as he took a few sips of water and forced some long, deep inhalations and exhalations.

When he looked to have calmed down, I asked if he was ready to continue. Gingerly, he gestured that he was. Sort of.

"First of all, Caranthir, let me say that I am extremely impressed that you have tried so hard with all of this. Whether you see it for yourself or not, you have already come a very long way. In these last few weeks, you have gained a lot of insight—hard won insight, no less, gained by forcing yourself through what must have been very uncomfortable moments for you." I smiled a little at him.

His face was still turned down in a scowl, but this time it wasn't directed at anyone. It was nothing more than a reflection of his mood. Caranthir inclined his head in a brief nod.

"The kind of bravery you've demonstrated in looking at yourself more than adequately shows your dedication to addressing your anger issues, and for as long as you're dedicated to trying your best, I'm more than happy to continue your treatment."

Caranthir's eyes, now even bluer than usual because of the slightly reddened whites of his eyes, shot up to me, and I could see a flicker of hope in his face.

"Would you like to keep going with our sessions?"

He nodded.

"Good, good. Well, just for future reference, it's all right if you feel unable to complete the homework tasks. What matters is you give it a good try for as long as you can stand it. Again, though, thank you for establishing your boundaries. We're always going to work within those."

That same squint of bewilderment and vague suspicion came up again, but he settled after a moment.

"Where to from here, then?" Caranthir asked in a murmur.

"Well, we have enough information from your homework to get started with what I'd hoped to look at today, so let's jump into it, shall we?"

With a tentative gesture of acceptance, we got started.

"Now, the task I set you had two functions. The first was to slow things down a little so you could get a look at what are called automatic thoughts. These are the thoughts or realisations that come in response to something happening to you. You don't think them up on purpose, they just… appear. They can be good, but they can also be the last thing that goes through your head that tips you over the edge into a rage. We'll come back to automatic thoughts in a minute, though. The second purpose was to see if there was a pattern to what sets you off."

I passed the paper back to Caranthir. "Have a quick look through that and see if you can see if some of the automatic thoughts you've written here have anything in common."

Caranthir took the paper and read through it, his sharp eyes flicking back and forth rapidly.

"I'm not sure," he said after a moment. "I see that I become angered and sad."

"Good start," I said with an encouraging smile. "Let's talk about a fascinating concept called the locus of control for a moment and then come back to the list. We can describe one's locus of control as how much a person feels they have control over their lives, their fate, what happens to them, and it's usually described as being internal or external."

Caranthir regarded me with a mixture of blankness and impatience. I held up a hand before he could give me the hurry-up order and continued.

"An internal locus of control means the person feels much of what happens in their life is because of what they personally do. So, for example, if someone who refused to practice an instrument failed to play a song well, if they had an internal locus of control, they would say it was their own fault for not taking the trouble to learn the song. An external locus of control, on the other hand, means the person usually attributes what happens in life to being the result of fate, the gods, other people, luck, that sort of thing. If someone with an external locus of control played the song poorly, they might blame their poor ability on the instrument not sounding nice, too much noise in the background, that sort of thing."

"Hmm," he sniffed. "What is the point of all this?"

"Now that you know the concept, have another glance at that list and see if you notice any commonalities this time around."

Raising an eyebrow a little, he looked like he had agreed to humour me and cast his eyes over the paper again. I watched the flicker of his eyes from left to right slow down to a crawl as he went down the list, and when he was finished, he looked up at me.

"Find anything?"

"It seems there are a number of moments when I feel like I am not in control," he mumbled, quite taken aback now.

"I'd like to ask you something, Caranthir, if I may. Naturally, you don't have to answer me if you don't wish, but as always, make the answer you give yourself a perfectly honest one."

He nodded once.

"What would happen when you got angry as a child?"

Caranthir chewed his lip a few moments before answering, "Usually, it would make my mother and brothers try to placate me. They would try to fix whatever had distressed me, attempt to soothe me, do things of that nature."

I forced a straight face as I noted his answer down, doing my utmost to ignore the "what the fuck" can-can troupe parading through my head as I did.

"And what about your father? What would he do if you were angry?" I was almost afraid to receive the answer.

"Very little. He was often busy on a project or travelling, so he was seldom present to begin with. When he was, though, he wasn't especially bothered by it either way. Sometimes he might laugh and encourage me. He was probably quite hot-headed in the same way and could relate."

My mental "what the fuck" dancers were can-canning so hard their shoes were practically flying off at this point. I wanted nothing more than to change the subject, lest an obscene remark about his parents slip out of my mouth and ruin the professional atmosphere I'd been striving to maintain. But we'd come to a critical point: this bad temper was not only _learned_ from his father, but it was actively encouraged and reinforced. Just about any parent will attest to the knowledge that indulging the tantrums of young children gives you the prize of a bad-tempered, entitled adult who has learned that to resolve an issue, all they need do is scream. This had to be addressed.

"Do you feel that your parents' stepping in to resolve your issues for you, or to encourage you might have taught you that losing your temper was an acceptable way to approach problems in life?"

Caranthir's eyes widened in surprise as he leaned back in his seat. This had apparently not occurred to him.

"Ah…" he mumbled, appearing a little flustered as he searched for an appropriate reply. "Well, when you put it that way, it's very possible… So this is something like a bad habit?"

I shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, that seems like one way to put it. But it's a habit that's gotten so out of hand, and is probably shaped by a lot of devastating events in your life, that it's now reached the level of a disorder, so it needs to be treated as such."

Numbed by all of this information coming to him at once, he nodded.

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?"

"It is," he said quietly.

"But like I said before, you're making absolutely phenomenal progress. You're well on track to get to your goal right now, Caranthir. The pain is awful, but it's a necessary hurdle to move onto better things. You really ought to be very proud of yourself."

I beamed at him. What a long way he had come. I hadn't heard a snide remark from him that session, and he seemed to be making room for other emotions when faced with a challenge. It was, all in all, quite remarkable and a testament to the tremendous health of the Elves.

Caranthir didn't smile back, but when he looked back at me, there was a degree of relief and calmness I hadn't seen in him before which, given his life over the last millennia, was practically the equivalent of a grin.

"Let's quickly go back to that list. I'll set you an exercise I want you to try out over the next week, and I'd ask that you make a couple of notes at the end of each day- just a few sentences with remarks on your mood, how often you felt angry, and how well you felt able to handle it, all right?"

"All right."

"Now, I'm going to draw a hideous diagram which I thank you in advance for patiently putting up with," I began as I took out a clean piece of paper.

Faintly amused, he raised an eyebrow and leaned over the desk to get a better look.

"Right now, this is how your thought pattern looks," I said as I began to scratch out a truly awful flowchart (yes, it is possible to fuck those up, and I'd rather not talk about it). "For most of the stressful things that happen to you, a thought process is evoked that encourages you to lose your temper. Let's look at the example you listed two weeks ago."

I drew a box at the left of the page, wrote _Run out of honey_ inside in, and drew an arrow to the next box. "When you run out of honey, you get angry because your locus of control is presently external. This makes you feel powerless," I wrote _Feeling powerless_ in the next box and made another arrow to the next box, "And then causes a loss of temper because you don't have anyone to fix your problem for you."

Caranthir had, for the first half of my demonstration, looked like he had planned to deliver a searing, witty remark about how abysmal my ability to draw even the most basic shapes was. By the time I'd paused, though, he was watching closely and nodded carefully at me.

I turned the page over and started to make a new flowchart. "_This_ is what I want you to try for the next week. When you run out of honey or, for example, think of things in your life that seem to be going wrong," I wrote the honey spiel in the box again, "I want you to try taking a step back for a second." I put _STOP_ in the next box. "Ask yourself, _is this something I have control over or responsibility for in some way?_ And I want you to be completely honest with yourself about it. If you've made a mistake and it's cost you, be truthful." I scrawled the question out and bifurcated the arrow. "If the answer is yes, then I want you to think for a moment of something you can do about it. Write it down somewhere, and if you feel happy enough to try it, do that thing." After filling in the top box with the _yes_ option, I pointed at the empty box below. "If the answer is no, then do some breathing exercises, walk away from what you're doing for a moment if you have to, and try again." After finishing up the diagram, I handed it to him. "See how that goes for this coming week and let me know, yes?"

He accepted the piece of paper and nodded.

"Good-oh. Well, I think that's about all we need do for tonight. Work on that exercise for a week and we'll meet up again, same time and place."

Caranthir slowly got to his feet and folded up his ever-growing wodge of papers.

"Oh," I quickly added, "just before you go: after our next session, I'll be away from here for about two weeks, so if you're looking for me in that time and can't find me, that's why."

He looked up. "Oh, yes? Where will you go?"

"We need more supplies to continue renovating all those buildings out there," I gestured in the direction of the ghost town stretching out to the west of us. "Got a deadline of a year to get the place ready, see, so we're in a bit of a hurry, you know?"

"Mmm, I heard that Gil-Galad is to be wed here."

I grinned and nodded. "Yep. Have to have the place looking pristine for all the guests. It's going to be a great time, I think."

"I see. Well, your upcoming departure is noted. Good evening, Rhodri, I will see you next week." He inclined his head and departed my office.

I stood there for a few minutes, my heart a little lighter at the hopeful prospect of better times ahead for Caranthir.

Then, with a half jump, I realised that Glorfindel had mentioned something about certain activities being delayed for later. I threw Caranthir's file into the drawer, locked up, and was out of there like a greyhound on a slip 'n' slide.


	84. The road from perdition

**Author's note: **Thank you heaps you lovely bunch for your comments! Your feedback and encouragement just makes me glow! _ What thoughtful folks you are to share your thoughts and questions with me. I really appreciate it! Please keep up the great work drinking your water and being kind to yourself, and if you're not already doing it, that's okay! There's never been a better time to start than now!

**Daisy**: have patience! :P They're renovating a whole city! Could you imagine being nine months pregnant and working at the end of summer, hauling around heavy stuff? Also, only a thousand? Naaah. Coincidentally, it's 2020 years in this chapter, if I've done my maths right. Which is unlikely. Idk. They got hitched in the year 1001 of the Third Age, and the Fourth age started a few days before Rhodri and co. set sail for Valinor. I'll let you do the numberwork. :P

**Mickey**: Nah, I'm pretty sure at least 6 of the 7 are in Valinor. Maglor's the only one I'm not sure of, though I don't think he's able to beachcomb on any shore in Valinor if he was in Middle-Earth when that habit started. You never know, though. Where there's a will, there's a way.

§

"So what's it like in Tirion, anyway?" I asked the committee as we sat on the lawn together. We had decided that since we worked so efficiently, we could afford to take lunch breaks, and were enjoying the gentle midday sun on our backs after having polished off almost an entire picnic's worth of F and B between us.

"Much busier compared to here," Gil-Galad replied with a laugh. "I wouldn't call it a bustling metropolis the way the Mannish kingdoms were, but the people there are a little more occupied than we are in our beach paradise."

Glorfindel cooed in excitement, beaming as he leaned onto me. "Ooh, this is going to be splendid! You'll finally get to see the house I grew up in!"

"Oh yes, I'm hoping for the grand tour," I said affectionately, resting one of my arms over his chest. "I imagine we'll be meeting a lot of people you locals grew up around, too." I gestured at Glorfindel, Gil-Galad, and Glorfindel's parents.

Glorfindel gasped. "Oh, I should have written ahead and told Ecthelion and the others to prepare a party!" The regretful groan he made was cut short by a laughing Gil-Galad.

"Not to worry, I sent a message out to Tirion as soon as we decided when we would leave. Preparations should be well under way, I imagine," he said with a wink. "You must surely see the legitimacy of my comments regarding your forgetfulness now."

Glorfindel scowled playfully and with a gentle shove tipped a now laughing cross-legged Gil-Galad onto his back.

"Will we need anything else apart from the lacquer and paint?" Elrond asked as we watched Erestor prop Gil-Galad back up again.

"Have they got dye there?" I asked off-handedly.

"Oh, yes," Glorfindel said with a laugh. "Plenty."

"Good. In which case, I would like to ask you three," I pointed at Gil-Galad and Glorfindel's parents, "For the colour of your choice, your favourite symbol or shape, and a few arm and leg measurements. I'm tired of doing all these renovations worrying I'm going to get something on my robes."

For those who knew what I was talking about, their grins broadened. The uninitiated, however, were thoroughly bewildered.

"Official club uniform," I explained. "This is your invitation to join. We meet and do what we do now, but look dangerously attractive while doing so."

Gloredhel and Galwen looked very excited and confirmed their membership with enthusiastic nods. They seemed not to notice the small whistling sound that filled the air as several Bib-and-Brace Club members started to wheeze behind their hands.

Gil-Galad looked at Erestor, whose body was shaking ever so slightly as he tried to suppress a laugh.

"Are you a member?" he murmured quietly to Erestor.

Erestor drew in a deep, shuddering breath and nodded.

Turning back to me, Gil-Galad said, "You'd better sign me up. My favourite colour is silver, and my favourite shape or symbol… birds, I suppose. Black birds." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Erestor went brick red at this point, but Gil-Galad didn't notice. "I'll take a full set of measurements tonight and have them to you by tomorrow."

"Erestor, are you well?" Celebrían asked, having also noticed that Erestor looked like a cooked lobster with a crop of raven hair.

I had a funny hunch that the black bird comment was part of a cutesy thing between Gil-Galad and Erestor, hence the blushing, which was why I hadn't spoken up. Unfortunately, that didn't occur to everyone else, and Celebrían's query only made Erestor redder.

"Some of that nectar's gone down the wrong way," I said, quickly getting to my feet and going to Erestor. I delivered a few short, sharp hits between his shoulder blades. "Cough a little bit, that'll get the juice up again."

Erestor, blessing me with one of his rare moments of social sharpness, complied and hacked a little for the benefit of the onlookers.

I slapped his back a couple more times for good measure. "How's that? Did you get it up?"

Erestor panted a little and nodded.

"Try to swallow it next time, rather than inhale it." I gave him a broad grin as he rolled his eyes at me.

Bloody Gil-Galad, I thought to myself upon returning to my spot beside Glorfindel. One minute he's an impenetrable mystery, the next he's turning his spouse into a beetroot by trotting out inside jokes in front of everyone. Love emboldens people to do all sorts of odd things. What a relief Glorfindel and I were never like that, I pondered smugly as I mindlessly poked at the vein on the side of Glorfindel's neck.

§

The evening before departure, I marched myself up to my office and saw Caranthir pacing around in the corridor. His movements appeared a little frustrated, but with his back turned to me, I could see the deliberate slow rising and falling of his shoulders as he inhaled and exhaled calmly. He was doing his breathing exercises.

"Hi there," I called out to him.

He turned around, took a deep breath, and looked quite pleased with himself as he greeted me with a confident inclination of the head. I smiled broadly as I walked over to the door.

"Excellent, absolutely excellent," I encouraged, opening the door and gesturing inside. "You ready to keep going?"

He nodded, the tiniest hint of a smile on one corner of his mouth, and stepped in to take his seat.

"Am I to assume from your rather positive demeanour that this week has gone well for you?"

"It has been rather successful," he replied proudly, immediately taking his notes out and placing them on my desk for me to look at.

I picked up his notes and looked through them, and I could scarcely believe my eyes. He was only into his fourth official week of therapy, and he had already exceeded his goal. Over the space of the last six days, he had only broken two of his possessions (glasses), and averaged about ten shouty moments a day.

I put down the piece of paper and clapped, beaming at him. "You've gone right past your goal already. This is absolutely exceptional progress. Very well done, Caranthir."

He wouldn't make eye contact, but the other side of his mouth was also tugged up into a smile, and true satisfaction was clear as day in his face.

"Well now, I suppose the bet is done. You've won fair and square, and I've lost my right to whistle within earshot radius of you. Congratulations." I chuckled a little.

Caranthir's smile vanished as he looked up at me. "Does this mean that therapy is over?"

"Depends how much more you want to do with this. Keep going with me and we can probably reduce the number of shouting episodes and broken objects down to a socially acceptable sort of average. Do you wish to continue?"

"I do, yes," he said quietly.

"Great," I enthused. "Would you like to set a new goal for yourself?"

"I… I believe I would like to try and re-integrate myself in society, get back in contact with estranged loved ones."

Ah. That was not the response I was expecting. On paper, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable goal, but Caranthir, along with his family and a fair number of the Noldor, had participated in as many as three brutal Kinslayings, and from what I knew of the events, it had quite understandably rendered those Noldor as _personae non gratae._ I took a pause to collect my thoughts as I worked out what to say. Caranthir picked up on this right away and looked at me with impatience and fear as he said, almost demanded, "What? Is my goal not feasible?"

"Whether it's feasible or not doesn't really factor into it, I'm afraid, Caranthir. My therapy isn't designed to trigger outside events like that."

His face contorted into a look of borderline rage, and I poured him a glass of water. "Take a couple of deep breaths, have a drink of water, and I'll explain."

When he had cooled off a little, I resumed. "You'll remember I said I work with up here," I tapped my head with my index finger. "And you know, changing how you think, and thus how you behave, is the best way to go about trying to fit back into society and paving the way for renewed contact with people. But this is where the realities of the locus of control come into play. You cannot control whether or not people accept you or the other Noldor back into society. It would be morally reprehensible to force your company on them if they didn't want it, no matter how close you once were with them."

In another rapid shift of mood, Caranthir's eyes filled with tears as he looked down into his lap. I passed him a handkerchief and refilled his glass.

"That's a very hard thing to come to terms with, I know, and it hurts to know it's not necessarily something you can do about it," I said gently, before adding, "However, that doesn't mean that nothing _else_ is in your control."

He looked up, drying his eyes on the handkerchief. "What do you mean?"

"You have the control to change your own behaviour and life for the better, even if they can't be a part of it any more. You can strive to be the best possible version of yourself, which is absolutely within your grasp, and that will change things in ways you can't imagine. And later on, you might feel able to perhaps send some people a letter asking if they would be interested in reconciliation, respecting their wishes if they decline. What do you say we work toward that instead?"

Caranthir nodded.

"Right. Well, let's get this goal sorted. If I can suggest what to aim for, a great start would be having another reduction of angry outbursts at a number of your choice, and an increased ability to make room for other emotions when you're feeling annoyed, all within the next four weeks. What do you think?"

Caranthir took his pieces of paper back and cast a look over them. "Perhaps we could reduce breakages to zero…" he murmured as he perused the second page. "And for shouting, maybe once or twice a week."

"Ooh, ambitious," I said with a smile. "Are you prepared to put in the work for it?"

He folded the pieces of paper up and lay them down on the desk before looking up at me, his determined face tinged by a heavy sadness. "I used to be fond of my cousins- Turgon, Aredhel, and Finrod especially. And, of course, I have been estranged from my wife Galadreth since around the times of the Kinslaying. If you really think this is my best option for a second chance with them, I will do whatever you ask of me."

"Do this for yourself, too, though, Caranthir," I said, leaning across the desk now. "You have to see the value of being your best self for your own benefit as well, otherwise what's the point of it all if you should reach out and they turn you down? You have to learn to live for yourself as well."

He sighed. "I suppose so, yes. You did say it would change my life, and I am curious to see what that entails."

"It's going to be something, that's for sure," I smiled as I noted down the new goals. "All right, well, as you know, I'll be setting out for a couple of weeks from tomorrow, so I'll set you a lot of work to do in the interim. Let's start off today's session in earnest, then."

Caranthir watched in curiosity as I took out a scrap piece of paper and started drawing very basic smiley faces with various expressions: happy, sad, angry, shocked. Turning the paper to face him, I pointed my pen at the faces. "Can you tell me what each of these expressions mean?"

Caranthir blinked at me, quite candidly displaying what he thought of my inane question. Still, though, he humoured me and correctly named each of the emotions depicted.

"Right. So why are they like that?"

He squinted, and it was obvious that Caranthir's own can-canning 'what the fuck' line was going like a storm in his head.

"Because you _drew_ them that way," he muttered in disbelief.

I laughed and rolled my eyes a little. "I should have told you to pretend they're real people. Assuming they were, what more information could you give me about why they're feeling that way?"

Now too confused to even be annoyed, he said, "I don't know, I'm sure. I haven't even spoken to them. How could I know?"

"Correct!" I gave him the thumbs-up. "Which brings me to today's topic: empathy. Tell me, how often do you suppose your anger has been the result of something another person has done, whether intentionally or not?"

"Often," Caranthir replied, his lip curling. "Perhaps less so now that I'm in contact with essentially nobody."

"Do you think the rate would be about the same if you had a busier social life?"

"Oh, I'm certain of it."

"In which case the empathy exercises will be worth their weight in gold for you if you intend to try getting among people again. What do you think empathy is?"

"I believe it means to feel the same things as someone else. You're not going to train me to feel others' feelings, are you?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow at me. "Is that really necessary to be a part of mainstream society?"

"Oh, good lord, no. You don't need to have feelings at all to be able to empathise with someone. Feelings make the process a little more automatic, but they can, in fact, be a hindrance in the grand scheme of things."

Caranthir frowned slightly. "So what is it, then, if it's not emotional replication?"

"It's about understanding what someone is feeling and, most importantly, _why_ they're feeling that way. Once you know that, you can use the information to logically deduce why they're behaving a certain way, and from there, you can decide what your options are and how to proceed. Shall we try an exercise to practice this?"

Intrigued, Caranthir nodded his head. I got up out of my chair and gestured that he should do the same. I had us both standing in a clear space in the room.

"Right, now, I'm about to lose my temper, and I want you to try and find out what's going on, all right?"

He looked a little surprised but nodded his head, watching me closely.

I took a deep breath and, starting to shout, I kicked my chair over and stomped my feet.

Caranthir's eyes were wide with shock, and then, while I was jumping up and down like an enraged frog, I heard a wheezing sound. I stopped everything and looked at him only to see him doubled over in laughter, slapping his knee like he was watching the Graham Norton Show.

I stood there in shock as I watched my client almost openly weeping from amusement.

"Was- was that not convincing?" I asked confusedly when he quietened down after a moment. That was a bad move on my part, because it only sent him into further paroxysms. Deciding it was better to let him do the talking, I stood there awkwardly and waited for him to calm down. It would be another five minutes before I heard any sound that didn't resemble a guffaw.

"If you weren't so good at this job, I'd have told you to leave this and become a jester," Caranthir gasped as he stumbled back over to the desk and grabbed the handkerchief to dry his eyes.

I said nothing. Much in all as I enjoyed making people laugh, I found myself wondering what on earth I must have looked like just then that had Caranthir so uncharacteristically mirthful.

He took a deep breath and looked up at me. "You need not continue your display. I'll take your word for it that you are enraged. So tell me, Rhodri, what is the matter, then?"

"Fuck you," I hissed at him, now back in character.

Caranthir's jaw went to drop, but his brows drew as he said, "What did you just say to me?" He strode over.

"Ah, now this is where it gets interesting!" I said, switching to my normal self again. The rapid change of manner threw Caranthir for a loop, and his anger disappeared.

"What?"

"You see what just happened? I'm in a bad temper, you ask me what the problem is, and I tell you to get fucked, yes?"

"R-right…"

"Why might I say that to you?"

"I… don't know…" he frowned, eyes flicking heavenward as he appeared to consult his mental rolodex for information.

"You don't really have enough information yet. Try probing a little more, but be sure as you do to think how you would want to be treated if you were in that situation. Preface it with an acknowledgement that you can see how I am feeling, followed by a firm but kind reminder that you deserve to be spoken to in a civil tone."

"Very well," he said as he nodded a little. "Rhodri, I… ah... see that you are angry right now." He paused and watched me for validation. I gave him the thumbs up. Heartened, he continued. "Please remember, though, that I didn't deserve to be spoken to like that. Will you tell me what is happening?"

Nodding encouragingly, I became my angry person again. "I'm sorry, Caranthir," I uttered remorsefully. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I had been having a hard day today, and then I dropped my bottle of necelyávë nectar on the tiles, shattering the bottle. I suppose the frustration of it made me lose my temper."

"Oh dear," he replied slowly before adding, "I would be upset if I lost a bottle of necelyávë nectar, too."

I snapped out of character and clapped my hands together once. "That was great! Not only did you do what I suggested, you went the extra step and really put yourself in my shoes! Very well done."

Caranthir inclined his head modestly. "Is this a strategy that I'm supposed to take and apply with everyone I speak to?"

"Got it in one," I nodded. "Though that might be a little difficult if you're isolated socially. If you talk to people, though, absolutely."

I took out a piece of paper and started scribbling some key questions. "Keep this piece of paper on you and practice asking yourself these questions when someone behaves in a way you're not expecting or you find annoying or upsetting: _What is this person feeling? Why are they behaving like this? Do they mean to upset me personally? If I were in their situation, how would I want to be treated? What are my options, knowing this person's situation- can I do anything to help them?" _

I passed him the piece of paper. "So: work out why, and what your options are moving forward. That's the basic premise of it. This approach, you'll find, is a great way to stop the anger in its tracks. Once you knew why I was angry in our little exercise, did you find it harder to be annoyed with me for swearing at you?"

Caranthir's eyes widened. "Yes, actually," he said. "It did. Having more understanding seems to make it easier to think." He looked at me, mouth open a little. "Is that why you've been so calm all those times I've lost my temper at you?"

"That's a large part of it, yes," I answered with a friendly smile.

"Why else?" he pressed curiously.

"Well, you wouldn't really stand much of a chance against me in a fight, I'm afraid," I confessed with a shrug. "I'm Tulkas' Maia."

"_You're_ Vinyaten?" Caranthir exclaimed.

"Goodness, it's like everyone knows my name around here," I murmured to myself in surprise. "Yes, that's me. I'd rather you kept calling me Rhodri, though, if it's all the same to you."

"Y-yes, of course," he stammered. Seemed that the news was a bit of a bombshell for him.

"Try not to let that knowledge make you nervous. You've already lost your temper a number of times at me without knowing I could have crushed you flat if you'd tried to fight me, so that should give you a rather reliable indicator of my unwillingness to use physical force. The only thing that should change is that now you know if you have anything very heavy that needs lifting, you need only come and find me." I smiled pleasantly at him.

"You're a very strange Maia," was all Caranthir said as he half-smiled at me.

I rolled my eyes. "I'd be filthy rich if I had a quid for every time someone said that to me."

"What is a quid?" he asked, puzzled.

"A unit of currency," I replied airily, glossing over it quickly. "Anyway, since your social life isn't that busy right now, I also want you to use these next couple of weeks looking back at _past_ interactions you've had that turned out angry. Go over the situation, write it down, and then start picking it apart with those questions. It'll be a retrospective analysis. Do one or two situations per day. It'll be quite time-consuming and confronting, so if you need a break, put the pen and paper down, and go and do something else. All right?"

Taking a deep breath, Caranthir took his pieces of paper back and nodded.

"Right, well, unless you can think of anything you'd like us to bring you back from Tirion, we'll call it a night, eh?"

"Perhaps a couple of plates and glasses," he murmured, face flushing in embarrassment.

"Consider it done," I said with a confident nod. "See you in about two weeks, then!"

He inclined his head gratefully. "I appreciate it, Rhodri. Have a pleasant trip."

When he'd left the room and I'd locked his file away again, I grabbed my things and made to find Glorfindel so we could start packing for our adventure in the morning.


	85. Protest! At the Disco

** Samara: **I'm not completely sure (I never am), but from what I can tell, this is supposed to have occurred in the mythological time that happened between dinosaurs and before 5 000 BCE or thereabouts. I dunno how it blended in seamlessly. Perhaps another meteor shower wiped out the last of the line of Men after the other mythical creatures quit, and we had to wait to be re-generated from protozoans living in the water. If I recall correctly, though, the Elves and Maiar and such were said to still exist, but their physical form has so faded that they basically exist in spirit form now until they decide to make themselves known to us. Should be in Laws and Customs Among the Eldar, I think, if you wanna read up on it :)

§

The next morning after breakfast, the entire committee set out for Tirion (Daereth, Bregedúr's daughter, was left in the care of Bregedúr's mother and father, who had a small beach house a short distance away from Alqualondë). The trip there was expected to be quite short compared to most other journeys we'd made- only some four days' ride on the extremely fast, seemingly tireless horses of Valinor.

Initially, it wasn't looking like it'd be that quick, though. The mood was unbelievably good, and even the smallest happy thing just about sent the Elves into raptures of joy. Said raptures ended up requiring quite a lot of breaks to accommodate, and I have to say, it's a sad day indeed when Rhodri Fanshawe has to be the organised one out of the bunch. Even Elrond, the physical embodiment of the Type A personality, was not in a fit state to remind people we had a rather tight schedule to observe. Hell, I tried to calm them down at one point by strumming Bob Dylan's _Mr. Tambourine Man _out on my guitar- these people actually got off their horses and started to dance. I felt like I was running a nightclub, watching these kooks pair up and get into some sort of frenzied jig. To Bob Dylan. Honest to god. Were I not so thrilled they were happy, I'd have been afraid for them.

By some miracle, my gentle reminders of our limited time kept them on track sufficiently that we arrived in Tirion on schedule, and my god, what a place.

The mountain ranges that spanned from the top to the bottom of Valinor had a small pass in the middle called Calacirya. In Calacirya was a large, green hill called Túna (laugh if you want, I certainly did), upon which the city of Tirion had been built. You can imagine the views. Huge, white mountains on either side of us like chalk walls, and the lushest grass as far as the eye could see. As for the city itself, it consisted of houses and grand buildings made of stone the colour of vanilla ice cream, and the streets everywhere glimmered softly in the daylight.

As we rode to the top of the hill, we reached a great gate that was watched by a pair of statuesque Elves, grave and calm as they motionlessly watched us approach. It almost gave me a start when one of them started to move as she caught sight of Glorfindel. She hit the other one in the chest.

"Look!" she shouted at him as she pointed at my spouse. "He is back!"

The other guard's jaw dropped. "It cannot be…" he breathed.

Glorfindel beamed and waved at them. "Hello there!" he called out to them cheerfully.

We stood for a few minutes as these people positively gushed over Glorfindel, which, naturally enough, Glorfindel exulted in. This might have gone on for quite some time were it not for the fact that Gil-Galad, now having regained his senses after those wild few days en route, excused us to enter the city.

"Who were they?" I asked Glorfindel once we had ridden out of earshot from the guards.

"I don't know their names," he said cheerfully. "I only met them once, and they were both very small children at that point. They were sweet, though."

My eyes widened a little. If these people had basically only seen him in passing, what on earth were acquaintances going to be like, and god, what about his _friends and family?_

I got my answer in very short order, because a crowd had started to form when we'd gotten some ten metres into the city. Glorfindel was positively glowing to see all these people again, and hopped off his horse where he practically crowdsurfed all the way up to the castle.

In the entryway, a group of very regal looking Elves stood, each dressed in some sort of official garb of their own house. I presumed they were some of the Lords of the Gondolindrim who had dug out their old clothes for a trip down memory lane. They stood in these stunning raiments beaming broadly at us. Glorfindel let out a thrilled scream and ran over to where they stood, throwing his arms around them. The moment was picture-perfect. They welcomed him delightedly and fastened around him a long, green mantle that was heavily embroidered with golden flowers. As he turned back to face us, in that moment, Glorfindel exemplified the beauty and nobility of the house he had once presided over, the gold threads shining as brightly in the sun as his smile and hair. It really was a magnificent sight.

The introductions went on for some ten minutes, such was the size of both groups. I half wondered to myself if it wouldn't have been better to just make each side file past like opposing football teams, holding our hands out for high fives as we went. But of course, this was the fancy side of life, and it wasn't as though the Elves didn't have the time to spend on extensive howdy-dos.

They ushered us into the castle where, in the throne room, an even more regal Elf sat. He was the tallest of them all, with blonde hair past his waist and eyes as blue as the sky. An elaborate silver circlet rested on his brow set with rubies and topaz, and he wore elaborate robes of purple and silver that were as dazzling to behold as his regalia. This had to be Ingwë, High King of the rose and swept over to us, smiling widely.

"I had quite forgotten how well you looked in that mantle, Lord Glorfindel," he remarked pleasantly. Glorfindel had inclined his head deferentially, but Ingwë drew him into an embrace before beaming at him. "Welcome back."

Ingwë turned to face the rest of us. "Ah, and there is Gil-Galad. I saw in your letter that you have joyful news to announce."

Gil-Galad stepped forward and nodded. "Indeed yes, but I thought I might save it for tonight."

"You have us on tenterhooks, my friend," Ingwë raised his eyebrows. "I had a feeling you might say something like that, though, so I organised quite a large feast so you can tell all and sundry."

"So much the better," Gil-Galad said with a grin. He turned to face Erestor and then, seeming to realise that could give the game away, looked around at all of us in turn.

"_Good save, matey," _I said to him in my head, flicking my eyebrows up once. He shot me a quick look of concern before turning back to face Ingwë.

"And this must be your husband, Celebrían!" Ingwë said, seeming to overlook Gil-Galad's moment of panic as he stepped over to her and Elrond. "So like Elwing," he murmured as he cast his eye over Elrond. "Does what you find in Valinor please you, then, Elrond?"

"Very much so," Elrond replied with a small smile, politely inclining his head. "More than I could have imagined for myself, certainly."

"I look forward to hearing accounts of your realm in Imladris this evening," Ingwë said with a smile. "The librarians will be most intrigued too, I am sure of it."  
"Ah, and Gloredhel, Galwen, Bregedúr. A pleasure to see you all," Ingwë continued as he moved through the crowd of visitors. "You must be pleased to have your son nearby again, you two," he gestured at Glorfindel's mother and father again, and they laughed happily, nodding in hearty agreement.

And then he reached me and stopped dead. "I… do not believe we have met," he said in a tone of plain shock as his eyes scanned my face. "No mortal has set foot in Tirion in thousands of years. How- how did you even get in-"

"I _told _you you should have just made your ears pointed, Rhodri," Bregedúr said to me as she shook her head.

"Rhodri? Is your name Rhodri? That is not a name I have heard of before, and I- what do you mean _make your ears pointed?_" Ingwë looked completely baffled now and was evidently having a hard time finding a balance between the expected unflappability of monarchs and an acute episode of WTFery.

"I won a beauty contest in Middle-Earth. First prize was a spot on the boat to Valinor," I replied with a lopsided grin. Right on cue, half the committee's mouths fell open, and the rest started to giggle. Ingwë was losing the battle against losing his mind at this point, and goggled at me, too taken aback to say anything.

"Oh, Rhodri, do _behave,_ would you," Elrond said in weary exasperation, having regained his own talking capability. "You're talking to a monarch, don't forget."

"You're right, Elrond," I said with a nod before addressing Ingwë again. "My apologies, Your Majesty. My sense of humour is a little strange. I am Rhodri, formerly of Imladris, now of Alqualondë. The resident psychologist, happy to be at your service." I inclined my head respectfully.

"_And?"_ said Elrond impatiently as he watched Ingwë only get more bewildered.

I rolled my eyes at Elrond. "Oh, fine," I said in a resigned tone. "Others know me as Vinyaten, Maia of Tulkas, which is how I was able to come here," I said to Ingwë.

"_Vinyaten?"_ Ingwë murmured as things started to click into place for him. "I heard tales of you being sent away many years ago."

"All resolved now," I assured him with a nod.

Glorfindel bounded over to my side now. "And we are married," he announced proudly to Ingwë and the Elves who had welcomed us earlier, and there were murmurs of approval in response.

"Excellent," Ingwë beamed. "A most formidable pair you make. Well, I suggest someone show you all to your accommodations for now so that you can prepare for the feast." He glanced out the window. "The sun is almost set now, so I anticipate it will commence within an hour."

The eight (I had counted them by this point) Lords of Gondolin who had welcomed us took it upon themselves to direct us to our chambers and leave us there to get ready.

"My goodness, people were delighted to see you, my darling," I said to Glorfindel when we were alone again. I beamed at him as I took his face in my hands. "That's the kind of welcome you deserve."

He jittered a little as he pressed his hands on top of mine. "It is wonderful to see everyone again. Tirion is almost exactly as I remember it." Glorfindel's expression softened. Was it wistfulness?

"It's a stunning place. If you want to move back here, we can do that," I offered.

He took my hand in his and we strolled over to the window in our room. The view outside was stunning, seeming to go on forever as the afternoon sun drenched everything in orange light. For a moment, we said nothing as we looked at the huge, gorgeous buildings that seemed to watch over the valley below.

"It's lovely here," he said slowly before turning to look at me. "But I must say, I love our life on the beach. I would be so loath to leave it now, even for Tirion." Glorfindel smiled gently. "And what of you, Rhodri? Where do you wish to be?" he asked as he stepped behind me and put his arms around me.

"I haven't seen a place here I don't like as of yet," I said with a laugh. "Anywhere will do, as long as there's an office for my files and a balcony for Happy Hour." My face went serious. "We will need to do something about the lack of a trampoline in Alqualondë, though, because that's reaching crisis levels now."

Glorfindel squeezed me tightly. "Mmm, that can't be allowed to go on." He shuddered a little. "After four months without it, I am starting to feel the pinch quite badly."

After a few more minutes of shaking our heads and worriedly commiserating about the severe trampoline deficit, we pulled ourselves together and got ready for the feast.

§

It was a relief the feast wasn't meant to be a surprise, because there was no way on god's green earth that Glorfindel, as one of the main recipients, would have been able to act the part. He practically bounced off the walls all the way to the celebration hall. None of us tried to calm him down, because we were all rather excited ourselves.

Just when I thought Glorfindel was the most enlivened one in the place, we entered the hall and good lord. This colossal assembly room, with its dizzyingly high ceilings and bright banners everywhere, was packed with people. When they caught sight of us standing in the doorway, they collectively lost it. A deafening cheer erupted that was so forceful it nearly blew us backwards into the corridor again. I was beyond stunned. I had no idea the Elves behaved that way. More of those mysterious Valinor Good Vibes in action, I presumed as we got pulled into the throng.

In the fray, we were passed around from person to person, and I don't think they gave a flying fig if they knew you or not. At this point, the mood was so good that they were just happy to see us (whoever we were). People were gripping our shoulders, nodding like a doggy on a dashboard, and smiling so hugely I was afraid the top half of their head would just tip backwards and fall off if they opened their mouths too far.

Fortunately for me, Glorfindel kept a hold on my arm and so at least we two weren't separated as we found ourselves in the Elven version of the hot potato game. As for the other members of the committee, though, I decided to factor in the possibility that I might not see hide nor hair of them again, they disappeared so rapidly into the sea of people.

Miraculously enough, the nine of us ended up reunited at the top of a very large, long table that I hadn't seen before, the crowd obscuring all but the ceiling and the upper half of the walls. It was as though we'd been filtered through the throng to get there, them gently sweeping us in that direction. Judging by the relieved looks on the others' faces, they hadn't anticipated seeing us again, either.

At that point, I got a decent look at what was on the menu, and I was not disappointed. The tables were very well-stocked (though not to excess, as I mentioned before) with dishes that mostly resembled Imladris' standard fare, but some vegetables and fruits were distinctly unfamiliar. When Ingwë took his place at the head of the table, we tucked into the food, which all ended up being absolutely delicious.

Some halfway into the proceedings, Gil-Galad stood and called for the attention of all the diners, who downed utensils and watched in intrigued silence.

"Your Majesty, Ladies, Lords, and distinguished guests, I speak on behalf of the committee of Alqualondë when I offer my heartfelt thanks for your warm and generous welcome upon our return—and for some our first visit—to Tirion." He held up his goblet and inclined his head at all present.

A murmur of approval rippled through the hall.

"The feast tonight that was so kindly organised was explained to you as a reunion party as we welcome back to Valinor the courageous Lord Glorfindel—"

A cheer interrupted Gil-Galad's speech, and Glorfindel could hardly sit still, he was so tickled pink by the joyful reaction at the mention of his name. Eventually, the hubbub died down enough that Gil-Galad was able to resume.

"We also happily receive Lord Elrond, son of Elwing and Eärendil, husband of the Lady Celebrían, who has spent many yéni building and watching over the illustrious realm of Imladris and worked tirelessly in coordinating the resistance against Sauron over the last two Ages."

Loud applause broke out along with fascinated murmurs and cheers from Elves whom I recognised to have lived in Imladris before dying in wartime. Elrond blushed a little at all the attention, shuffling closer to Celebrían and taking her hand in his.

"Also among the recent arrivals from Arda, we welcome Rhodri, known also as Vinyaten, foremost Maia in the House of Tulkas, a valued counsellor to Lord Elrond and the psychologist of Imladris and Alqualondë, and wife to the Lord Glorfindel."

I was flattered to also win some cheers from the former members of Imladris as another round of applause broke out. There were certainly plenty of confused and intrigued murmurs, too, much of it being "what is a psychologist?".

"And now to the surprise announcement that I have been eagerly anticipating to share with you all. We also welcome the excellent Lord Erestor, who has been a trusted and greatly valued high counsellor to me in Lindon, and then to Lord Elrond in Imladris." He gently motioned for Erestor to stand, which he did, and Gil-Galad took Erestor's hand in his, beaming broadly now as he turned back to address the hall. "And it is with great delight and joy that I announce that the Lord Erestor and I are to be married in just under a year from now in Alqualondë, to which you are all warmly invited!"

Well, that did it. The pandemonium that issued forth at this almost lifted the roof off. Even Ingwë was applauding noisily. The thought of another royal wedding had people going absolutely bananas, and I don't think the ambient volume went below 120 decibels for about five minutes.

When Gil-Galad and Erestor sat down again, everyone seemed to have the same idea: bolt the remainder of the food and start dancing. I honestly don't know what possessed these people to engage in such uncharacteristic displays of euphoria, but it was delightful to see if there was anyone they were going to lose their heads for, it was Gil-Galad, Erestor, Glorfindel, and Elrond.

Everyone else got up and went to the ballroom next door in preparation for a night of toe-tapping, and as was proper custom, we as the guests were to enter last (presumably so that everyone could get another gawk in at us). When we finally got up from the table to follow Ingwë in, a voice sounded from behind Gil-Galad that made him- and the rest of us- turn around.

"So, the committee of Alqualondë has been founded now, hmm?" came an unimpressed tone from a very tall, white-haired Elf. He was dressed in similarly regal-looking attire as what Gil-Galad and Ingwë wore, and looked distinctly put out.

"You haven't set foot in Alqualondë in many yeni, Olwë," Galwen spoke up, raising an eyebrow at him. "The place is all but abandoned now, by both yourself and most of the surviving Teleri and Noldor who once lived there. King of Alqualondë you may be, but you have not exercised that power in many years."

My mouth fell open. Well, didn't this just take the bloody biscuit. I had no idea the place already had a king! God, if only I'd actually troubled myself to memorise the lessons Elrond had given me on who did what in the world. Talk about a sticky situation. In a moment of divine foolishness, I stepped forward and greeted this very displeased person with the traditional hand-over-heart gesture.

"Well met, Your Majesty," I said as I inclined my head respectfully. "I am Rhodri. I and my husband Glorfindel, along with Elrond and Celebrían, head the committee of Alqualondë. Am I to presume that our efforts to revitalise your beautiful city are unwanted?"

Olwë, upset but not scornful, inclined his head back at me briefly and spoke. "I am less than pleased that such dramatic procedures are being undertaken without my knowledge. Alqualondë is, after all, the capital city of my realm."

"I apologise for not having consulted you before beginning any of this work. That was an error on our part, and you had the right to know and speak about it. We would ask, if you'll excuse the belatedness of it, your permission to continue our work in the city's restoration."

"Are you ruling there now?" Olwë asked, skirting around my question.

"Our committee is equipped to handle all administrative matters, but none of us would ever attempt to diminish your presence as king there," Celebrían said firmly, rest of us nodding our heads in agreement.

"Suppose I wanted to leave the buildings intact as a tribute to the dead?" Olwë replied, squaring his jaw and raising an eyebrow defiantly.

"With all due respect, King Olwë, I doubt you would consider the buildings a fitting tribute to the suffering of your people in their current state," I replied quietly. "They, along with other critical infrastructure, have gone to wrack and ruin. Even if you didn't wish to repurpose the buildings and opted to leave them as memorials, they ought to at least be maintained."

Olwë's face softened a little. Gil-Galad, seeing his chance, took it, speaking up now.

"Olwë, it was a grave error on my part allowing this to happen. I am not a part of the committee, but I should have stopped its formation in its tracks. I… I suppose I must have been carried away by the joy of our betrothal that I was not thinking sensibly."

Everybody looked at Gil-Galad in surprise. The committee, Olwë, and even Ingwë had big eyes to see him talk like that. Well, everybody except Erestor, who looked like he was about to die from a stormy cocktail of swooning and embarrassment.

"We can easily reschedule the wedding to occur here in Tirion and respect your wishes to leave the rest of the city untouched, if that is what you want. I apologise sincerely, meldir." He looked at Olwë with an expression of genuine remorse and put a hand over his heart.

Olwë looked like he'd been slapped in ten different places by ten different hands, thoroughly flummoxed now. He opened his mouth, making to speak, and closed it again. After a couple of repeats of this fish-like motion, he gave up and sighed.

"To be truthful, Gil-Galad, thoughts of restoring Alqualondë have been in the hearts of the Teleri for many years, but it has been too unbearable for any of my kin to step into those houses again and see the carnage that lives within," Olwë admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in a most un-regal manner as he appeared to comb through his brain for the right words.

Glorfindel and I glanced at each other hopefully. This was a good sign. Emboldened by this, Glorfindel took his chance to say something.

"Would you consider coming to Alqualondë with us and inspecting the progress we have made in the houses we have worked on, Olwë? If you find it to your liking, we can continue, and if it is agreeable to you, perhaps the wedding of Gil-Galad and Erestor can go ahead, too."

Olwë faced Glorfindel, his heavy expression slowly morphing into a small smile.

"Yes," he said slowly. "Yes, I think that would be most agreeable. If there were an event to bring a little life into the place again, a wedding would be the most welcome thing, to be sure. Well, let me see the houses first, and we will talk of weddings after."

We all exchanged relieved smiles. It wasn't a guarantee, but it was a very good start.

"_That was incredible," _I said to Glorfindel in my head as we all happily walked into the ballroom. "_In the space of five minutes, we managed to almost get evicted from Alqualondë and then tentatively reinstated, and now it's almost as though nothing happened at all."_

Glorfindel, for once, didn't have anything to say. He raised his eyebrows in agreement, gave my hand a loving squeeze, and in we went for the next round of Ultimate MinglingⓇ.


	86. Hammer time

@guest: That's true, Finarfin is the King of the Noldor, BUT! Ingwë is the King of the Vanyar, and because the Vanyar are at the top of the food chain, Ingwë's rule extended over the other groups of Elves as well, making him the High King of all the Elves. Look up Ingwë in Tolkien Gateway or the LoTR's Fandom page. You'll see what I mean. He stopped by Tirion to say g'day when he found out Gil-Galad was returning; he's usually based in Taniquetil.

@Athena: I doubt it. At least if they lived in the canon world that Tolkien had made. However, in the alternate version that I've made, such relationships are regarded as equally valuable and worthy of celebration as ones like Rhodri and Glorfindel's. I'm not having any of that sort of exclusionary attitude in my good Elven suburbs.

I think in some ways they think mortals are silly because of the way a finite life shapes their behaviour. They regard them with some pity, I think, that they act so foolish, which I think is born of ignorance on their part. They can't imagine what it's like to have a life that's over in a handful of decades. Even Arwen couldn't make sense of it until right at the moment when Aragorn was about to die. For all their smarts, they certainly lack a lot of worldliness at times. And I think Rhodri sees a lot of that, having lived in both conditions, as does Olórin. The Elves have a lot to learn. I'm pleased the more influential of them are open to being schooled in that regard, because otherwise I think Rhodri and Olórin would be driven up the bloody wall with them :P

@Beth: The Maiar are spirits. They have to assume a physical form, otherwise nobody but other Maiar and the Valar can see them. Hence Melian taking the shape of an Elf, and the Istari gadding about like starved Santa Clauses. To be truthful, I don't think the Elves look that different from humans. They're just taller, stronger, and healthier… plus pointed ears. Face-wise, Rhodri fits right in with them, except she never bothered with the ears, which gave her away instantly.

@Daniella: I believe they do, yes. They have words for it in their language. Not that that guarantees it, of course, but I think it suggests it. Since they can go much longer without eating, though, I would hazard a guess that their metabolism is much more efficient than that of humans, and so probably require fewer trips to the bathroom overall. Just a hunch.

@earthdragon: without giving too much away regarding Glorfindel and Ecthelion: see below :P

§

That party was an absolute corker. Predictably enough, the committee was dragged away in different directions according to who was squabbling for their attention. Ingwë had had his eye on Elrond much of the evening, and he whisked him and Celebrían away to a quiet spot, closely followed by a throng of former Rivendellians who were equally keen to catch up. Glorfindel's parents had plenty of friends with whom they tore up the dance floor. Gil-Galad and Erestor were surrounded by emotional, dark-haired people who looked remarkably like them- I presumed they were parents and other relatives, and we understandably didn't see much of the happy couple after that.

Bregedúr, though a very zealous type, wasn't especially good at parties where she didn't know anyone, being a rather shy type at heart. I could see the beginnings of tension harden her shoulders as she apprehensively stood with Glorfindel and I, having not been collected by anyone yet.

"Hey," I said to her.

She jerked a little as she turned and looked at me.

"Don't go into that fray alone," I gestured vaguely at the crowd in front of us and grinned. "I bet you'll be the first one of us who makes a tit of themselves, and I want to make sure I'm right."

The nervousness melted off her face as Bregedúr smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Brave talk for someone has the social graces of an inebriated dog. What makes you think you'll fare better than me?"

"Just a lucky feeling," I said casually, shrugging a little.

"I bet it'll be the other way around," she retorted.

"Oh, yes?" I leaned in a little closer to her. "How much?"

Her leaf-green eyes gleamed wickedly as she replied, "The loser has to eat an entire tablespoon of saerlas pulp."

I had to strain to conceal my shock. That bloody Elrond must have gossiped to all and sundry about finding me curled up like a dying bug on the floor of the hospital wing! It was either that or Gildin had spilled the beans, but I had a vastly bigger inkling as to which of the two was the perpetrator. I resolved to speak with Celebrían when we got home and ask her to hold her talebearing husband still while I delivered a swift kick to his arse. Trapped in the here and now, though, I gagged a little and inwardly bemoaned that the platonic love language this best buddy and I shared was based on trash talk, toughness, and gruff back-slapping.

"What are you gagging about, Rhodri?" she crowed as quietly as she could manage. "Can you already taste the defeat?"

"Do forgive me," I said stiffly. "I was seized by an errant shred of empathy as I pictured you choking down that mouthful of saerlas pulp. It's gone now, don't worry."

"Sounds like you're in."

"Too right I am."

"May the best Elf win, then."

"But I'm a Maia," I murmured.

"Exactly," she said smugly.

At that moment, we were dragged into the thick of it. Glorfindel took my arm, and I grabbed Bregedúr's as the same eight who had greeted us earlier on took us to a set of couches off to the side that afforded us room to socialise comfortably.

"We'll get to dancing shortly," a black-haired, blue-eyed figure said to us, beaming broadly as he spoke. He was draped in silver robes that shimmered like the moon on the sea as he moved. "First, though, we wish to be brought up to date with everything!"

Glorfindel grinned as he raised his eyebrows._ "Everything,_ Ecthelion? It's been almost three Ages since last we all saw each other."

"We know that, Glorfindel," spoke up another Elf with a laugh. He was the tallest of any of them and had a circlet encrusted with garnets that sat on his sharp brow. "So you three had better hurry up and start talking, since you're leaving us again tomorrow."

Glorfindel chortled. "As you wish, Turgon."

With that, we all sat down and Glorfindel launched into his account of the long years since he had last been in Valinor. Bregedúr and I sat back and took it easy while he had the eight of these powerful Elf-lords hanging off his every word.

Glorfindel, bless his cotton socks, paused when he was up to about the middle of the War of the Ring and said to Bregedúr and I, "Have I been narrating too long? Perhaps I should let the two of you tell the rest."

The Elf-lords smiled at us invitingly, but two things made me reluctant to talk. First of all, these were not my friends, lovely though they seemed. They had been Glorfindel's friends since early childhood, and I was not keen to take away any limelight that could be his at a time like this. And second, Bregedúr and I both knew that once either of us opened our mouths to talk extensively, the risk of making a tit of ourselves and thus losing the bet skyrocketed. Both excellent reasons to let Glorfindel carry on.

"Ah, but beloved, you tell the story so well," I replied with placid happiness. "Why put a stop to a good thing?" Bregedúr, who had been slouching on me, sat up just enough to nod in fervent agreement before relaxing against me once more.

Glorfindel wasn't especially surprised at Bregedúr's shyness, but usually he and I took turns in narration, and the jolt in the routine seemed to throw him for a loop a little.

_"Enjoy your time with your friends, beloved. There's plenty of time for me to speak with them later,"_ I murmured in my head.

The curious look on his face was replaced with a tender smile that made him glow (and made me glow as well, if I'm honest).

_"I adore you,"_ he said back.

My heart just about burst at that, and then a second later nearly stopped altogether when Bregedúr said, "Goodness, Rhodri, are you all right? You've gone bright red."

Everybody's eyes went on me, and as I turned to face her, I saw a sparkle in her eyes. The bugger was trying to line up her win! Well, I wasn't having that. With a pointed look, I said to her casually, "Well, Bregedúr, when someone's been draping themselves over you like a dead fox for the last hour and a half, wouldn't _you_ find it a tad warm?"

Glorfindel and the other Elf-lords snorted at that. Bregedúr did not, rolling her eyes at me as she sat up straight.

_"It'll be a while before you pull something like that again, won't it, you snake in the grass?"_ I said to her over the brainwaves as Glorfindel eased back into recounting the treachery of Curumo. _"Nice try, though."__"The night's still young, Rhodri. Don't get smug._"

When Glorfindel reached the end of the entire saga within half an hour, I was surprised to realise that even though that the later half of the War of the Ring had had far more going on in it than the earlier half, it had taken much less time to recount. But then I realised: Glorfindel had almost entirely omitted the time we had spent keeping an eye out for Elrond and worrying about him during all the personal things that had happened to him. It was only then that it really hit home for me how much care Elrond had needed, and it turned my insides to ice. Things had been really bad. Simultaneously, though, it soothed my guilty conscience, which until that moment had still been raw about threatening to physically force Elrond to board the boat to Valinor. Now I was sure it had been the right move.

After Ecthelion and Turgon, whom I had a hunch Glorfindel was particularly fond of, filled us (though mostly Glorfindel) in on the happenings in the area-- a far shorter account than Glorfindel's, Turgon said, "Now that we have had at least a taste of the goings-on-- we do hope that you will also share your news and stories with us when it suits you, Lady Rhodri and Lady Bregedúr--" he added quickly, "Let us speak of the present. What is this committee that Gil-Galad spoke of in Alqualondë? That is where you are now, is it not?"

Glorfindel looked at me uneasily as we both recalled our recent having of words with Olwë.

"Ah," I began slowly. "Well, nothing is confirmed as of yet. It is merely a proposal for now, contingent on the approval of King Olwë. If he permits it, though, we intend to revitalise the entire city in preparation for the wedding of Gil-Galad and Erestor."

My response was met with murmurs of interest among the Elf-lords.

"Assuming we can proceed, you gentlemen should come out for the wedding. Stay at the beach until you're sick of it, and we can swap as many stories as you wish over a few bottles of necelyávë nectar."

This, too, seemed very agreeable to them, and there were plenty of happy nods in reply.

"Will sparring also be available?" came a question from a hugely muscular Elf-lord sitting across from me. He had black hair that glowed like magma in the light, and was dressed from head to foot in robes of striking red and black, with gold trims. I recognised him instantly from the stories Glorfindel had told me about the Lords of Gondolin. This was Rog, head of the House of the Hammer of Wrath. I think he particularly stuck with me because I thought the name of his house was cool as hell. He was famed as being the strongest of all the Elves, and in the war that led to the Fall of Gondolin, he and his armies carried maces in the shape of a hammer (hence the house name, I supposed). Rog appeared to have directed that question to me, because he was watching me politely, a pleasant but eager smile on his face.

Glorfindel, Bregedúr, and I all grinned. "Sparring is always available."

"With you also?" he asked in surprise.

"Certainly. Unless you don't want to, of course," I replied with a smile. "Do you still fight with one of those magnificent hammers?"

A smile turned up the corners of his mouth now. "I most certainly do."

I was quite sure I could hear my eyes sparkling. I would have given my top row of teeth to spar with something as badass as a hammer. Though Bregedúr was very partial to the sword, I saw her also lean forward in interest out of the corner of my eye.

Glorfindel laughed. "I think my wife and friend have much they wish to discuss with you, meldir," he said to Rog, smiling broadly.

Rog looked chuffed to bits at this. I got the impression that Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Turgon, and maybe Egalmoth made up the dream team that took up much of the limelight given to the Lords of Gondolin. Rog, whose forces had always brought up the rear, was very much a behind-the-scenes sort of power, and I think he was quite pleased to have something of a fan club forming al of a sudden.

For the next while, the conversations started to splinter a little as Glorfindel and the others reminisced over old times while Bregedúr and I got talking with Rog and another of the Lords called Galdor, of the House of the Tree. The two houses had been the first to confront the forces of Melkor, the evil Vala who had trained Sauron up to do his bidding, when he and his army invaded Gondolin. Galdor was a less imposing sort of fellow, with reddish-brown hair and a calm, gentle smile, but he and Rog had both been dauntless in the face of certain death.

By midnight, we'd planned out the next ten years' worth of sparring events, and Bregedúr and I were given a personal guarantee by Rog that when he visited, we would each have a hammer of our own and lessons on how to wield it. We were absolutely thrilled. So thrilled, in fact, that we had totally forgotten our wager. Yes, it was _that _extreme. By the looks of it, Glorfindel was over the moon, too. His cup was running over seeing his friends again, and when our conversations overlapped (they frequently did), we all made plans for when we would visit, whom would do the travelling, and what we would be celebrating. Or at least we were when we weren't all off dancing.

§

For the family celebration of their eighteenth birthday, my younger twin siblings, Charlotte and Oliver, had insisted that the entire household have a slumber party. To my surprise, the request was met with uncharacteristic consternation on the part of my social butterfly night owl parents, though they hid it beautifully. I found out why the next day, when, after a night of nonstop jamming, board gaming, and unrestricted cake consumption (and not a single wink of sleep), they told us all to pack a bag. Their surprise present to the twins was a three-week family trip to visit relatives in Turkey, and we were due at the airport in an hour and a half.

The memory of that seemingly endless period of activity, which had ended up spanning around forty hours from waking up in the UK to going to bed early in the morning in İstanbul, ricocheted in my head as the committee departed the ballroom in the middle of the next morning. We'd been in the thick of the festivities the entire night, no pauses given and no pauses asked for. The quieter members of the committee had slipped outside now and then to recoup, but invariably came back in to dance and socialise yet more.

After almost twelve hours of mingling and dancing and rinse/repeating, we now had to quickly collect the supplies we'd come for so that we could issue a charming but firm 'so long and thanks for all the fish,' before making our way back to Alqualondë.

It would have been nice to stay longer in Tirion. Glorfindel's promise to show me some of his favourite places had been kept, but I hadn't imagined that it would be in the form of almost sprinting me through them and squeaking interesting facts as we passed by in a blur. It would have been great to get a good, long look at the place, but unfortunately, houses and buildings don't renovate themselves, and we had already lost two precious weeks of working time in coming to Tirion in the first place. And so it was that with a few wistful sighs, we said cheerio to everyone and hit the road, now armed with a few hammocks, some rings for Erestor and Gil-Galad, a huge bundle of cans of paint and lacquer tied up in a huge bundle I carried over my head- oh, and Olwë, of course.

We were on better behaviour on the return trip, mostly because it was rather hard to gauge how to act around Olwë. Pleasant enough though he was, there was a seriousness about him that made all of us (even Glorfindel and me) very hesitant to act the fool in front of him, not even taking out the trampoline. In a way, I was quite relieved Olwë was with us, because it meant I was spared the task of keeping the committee on track when they went off on one of their episodes of euphoria.

I ended up seeing the largest downside of his accompanying us, though, when we arrived in Alqualondë and had to witness a heartbroken Olwë take in the decrepitude the buildings had sunken into after yéni of neglect. He slowly put a hand over his mouth and gasped quietly, his icy blue eyes brimming with tears as he looked at the lifeless buildings in front of him.

Caught up though we were with his genuine suffering, the rest of us exchanged confused looks, because something was different about the place. Many of the structures were much less wrecked looking on the outside than we remembered. What had gone on here? Had other locals gotten wind of what we were doing and decided to make the journey to us and help?

Our shared surprise was interrupted by a scream of rage. We turned and saw, to our shock, that Olwë, looking positively incensed, was pointing at Caranthir, who had just appeared from the back of one of the houses, holding a long stick with a cloth attached to it in one hand and a bucket of water in the other.

I froze and bit my lip as I looked at the others in dread. This really wasn't a good look.

_"What," _shrieked Olwë furiously, "is a son of Fëanor doing in Alqualondë? Is-- has he been rummaging around in the dwellings of my kin?" He was so angry that I could almost hear the air crackle around him.

Caranthir looked to be heaving a sigh in the distance and started to slowly, calmly approach us.

_"I hope you know what you're doing, Caranthir," _I said to him in my head. _"I'm quite sure Olwë is ready to skewer you with his sword."_

Caranthir flicked his eyes over to me a moment and then turned them back to Olwë, his face unchanged as he drew up in front of him.

"Your Majesty," he said as he got to one knee and bowed his head so low that his hair fell forward, baring his neck. I was taken aback; that was the ultimate gesture of Elven remorse. Such an action intentionally made it easy for punishment by decapitation, and was reserved for a level of contrition where one knew that losing their head would be no less than what they deserved.

I had never seen it happen before, and it seemed that Olwë had not either. He stood still, brows knitted, not quite sure what to do with himself, and stayed that way for a good few minutes. The entire time, Caranthir didn't budge, not looking up, speaking, or even opening his eyes.

Eventually, Olwë appeared to pull himself together enough to say something.

"Get up, Caranthir," he requested with a sigh.

Caranthir slowly rose to his feet and watched Olwë silently.

"What are you doing in Alqualondë?"

"I have wandered around Valinor alone for quite some time, Your Majesty, drifting from place to place. I came to Alqualondë a handful of years ago to rest awhile before travelling north."

"Why are you still here?" Olwë asked severely. It didn't seem like any answer Caranthir could give would be well received, which was fair, but I couldn't help feeling a little bad for the guy. He had made such great progress, and this was a confronting hurdle at such a delicate time.

Caranthir's head lowered a little. "I had planned to depart some weeks ago, but Rhodri offered to help me learn to manage my anger."

Oh, god. Everyone turned to look at me now, Olwë with a renewed look of outrage on his face.

"You've—you've been helping—what have you been doing with him?" he demanded furiously.

"I can't answer that, I'm sorry, Your Majesty," I replied, folding my hands in front of me calmly. "I am bound to secrecy except under the direst circumstances. You'll have to direct any questions you want answered to Caranthir."

"Your Majesty," Caranthir said gently. Giving me a warning look, Olwë swivelled back around to face him, head cocked slightly to one side.

"I offer my sincerest apology to you without expectation that you accept it. I have acted like a beast much of my life, and only now, even long after completing my penance in Mandos, am I truly aware of the extent to which that has affected others. I am reformed and am working to the best of my ability to undo at least some of the hurts I have inflicted on you and your people. While you were all in Tirion and travelling here, I started cleaning the exterior of some of the houses," he gestured at the buildings. "That is what I was doing when I heard all of you arrive. I'm afraid you came a little earlier than I had expected; had I known when you would arrive, I would have made myself scarce sooner."

I was impressed. Those empathy exercises seemed to have spurred a real desire to do something without remark or reward for the purposes of simply apologising and putting things to rights. What a long way he had come from the plate-breaking, screaming, aggressive hot-head he'd been only a couple of months prior.

Olwë was speechless. Everyone was, really. None of the others had been aware that Olwë had even been seeing me, let alone making such huge strides in the reformation of his character. I don't think anyone quite knew what to make of this. Whatever happened next would depend on whatever clemency Olwë decided to show him.

But then Caranthir spoke again, taking me aback even further.

"I do not wish to put you in a position where you are expected to accommodate me while you decide whether my apology is to be accepted in some form. I will depart Alqualondë immediately. I ask an hour or two more while I collect my belongings. If Your Majesty should ever decide that I am permitted in Alqualondë again one day, I would ask that you tell Rhodri, who will find a way to get the message to me. Otherwise, I will keep away from the realm henceforth. Good day, Your Majesty, everyone."

Caranthir inclined his head and as he looked up again, he momentarily caught my eyes before turning and walking away to the house he had built himself behind the nearby hills.

We all stood there in silence for a moment before Olwë turned and faced me. He was still outraged over the whole thing, but now it was mingled with deep confusion.

"Would you like to sit down awhile, Your Majesty?" I asked gently. "I understand this has all been quite a shock for you."

Olwë ignored my question, instead responding with, "Had you planned for me to see him so that I could be put on the spot to give him my pardon?"

I shook my head. "You don't ever have to forgive him. Nobody does. I make it explicitly clear to all of my clients that my treatments are solely for their own personal growth, and that they cannot ever expect forgiveness, even in the face of an apology."

"You took him in here and allowed him to live on the graves of my people!" he spat at us angrily.

Gil-Galad made to speak, but I held up a hand politely to stop him. "King Olwë, everyone in Alqualondë who had seen Caranthir walking around will attest to his extreme displays of temper. It was not safe to leave him unchecked."

"You could have driven him out!" he protested.

"And what then? He would have wandered elsewhere and continued causing the same social problems. It raised serious safety concerns for other Elves," I replied briefly. "Unfortunately, this was an issue that the Elves ought to have addressed long ago, but as it was not, it regretfully fell within the purview of the Maiar to remedy, which I have done. Though I would rather it didn't occur in Alqualondë either, my family is here, and I had to maintain privacy. There is nothing more to say about the matter, Your Majesty."

I hated pulling rank like that. The UK had always been fairly hierarchical, especially in the upper circles which I had been born into, and I loathed having much to do with it. Unfortunately, the Elves were often even worse in that regard, and much as I didn't like to trot out the "I'm a Maia" chestnut, it was occasionally the only way I could get them to listen. Caranthir needed the treatment, and I was obliged to provide if I felt able, which I did.

The upside of doing what I just did, though, meant that the case was closed instantly. Olwë didn't look especially pleased, but he accepted it immediately, and the reason I gave seemed good enough. It had to be. I couldn't pass laws the way the royalty could, but the Maiar had always been afforded a little extra room to do what they felt they needed to. Sort of like the 'doctor knows best' mentality a lot of people have.

"Very well," he conceded with a nod. "I suppose it was for a greater good."

"I promise I only acted with the best interests of you and your people at heart," I assured him. "I understand that it is confronting, though, and I wish I could have made it less painful for you. In any case, I will leave you all to inspect the progress of the houses, and I will see Caranthir off."

Inclining my head politely, I departed quickly to follow after Caranthir. As I walked over the hill, I wondered to myself what the committee had thought of my speaking with him- if they had felt some anger that I had been speaking civilly to a much-loathed figure despite my explanation. That, I supposed as my stomach gave a small heave of dread, was something I'd have to find out later.

I reached the entrance to Caranthir's small wooden hermitage. It was a pleasant, simple sort of place that he had presumably built himself, and though I felt uneasy being there, I took a breath and knocked on the door.

"Caranthir? It's Rhodri."

The door opened to reveal a rather calm, sad Caranthir. "Hello, Rhodri. Thank you for following me. Please come inside if you wish."

I nodded and followed him in. The place was a basic but comfortable area a little larger than the interior of a tiny house. In one end of the house was his bed, and at the other was a desk and a chair. The kitchen sat in the middle, up against the back wall, and on the floor sat a couple of packed bags.

"I had not thought I would depart so soon," he admitted to me as he gestured at the bags. "Maybe a few weeks more, but I suppose it had to happen some time or another."

"Where to now, then?"

Caranthir sighed. "I thought I might try to make my way up to Formenos, where we were exiled with my father. The place hasn't been lived in for many yéni now, but I have at least a somewhat better idea of how to re-establish buildings after seeing you and the others working around here. Perhaps a few of the exiled Noldor and my brothers will decide to return if they know it is habitable again."

I nodded. "Sounds like you have it all worked out."

"It sounds better to speak about than to carry out, but my options are few these days," he answered, a tone of plaintive remorse very clear throughout.

"Do you have enough time for a quick finish-up session, then, before you get back out on the road?"

"I do."


	87. Go forth (and multiply)

**Author's note: **

CW adult themes

**Courtney**: haha, nah, Rog had overheard the Maia of Tulkas was back, and being the strongest of all the Elves, he would have been very tempted to see how that measured up against the next stir best set of beings. Selfish, but Rhodri was in it for the Hammer, so it ends up being mutually beneficial however you look at it :P

**Kish**: I think they can. One of the Elf-lords of Gondolin, Salgant, was described as being a bit fat, so there must be some sort of body variation, and they certainly do have height differences.

**Winter**: Oh, they still spent plenty of time together, but Elrond and Celebrían had quite a bit of unpacking to do together after the whole Arwen saga and the War of the Ring. I imagine they'll be in touch with Rhodri soon enough for bigger talks. ;)

**Athena**: I don't doubt it shaped a fair bit of it, though for the time period, Tolkien was quite progressive. I'd argue that what shaped much of the Elves' judgemental attitudes most of all, though, is down to their physiology and also their rather insular nature. The luxury of eternal youth and vitality that comes with Elven immortality would have a colossal impact on how someone sees the world. They have all the time in the world to watch and wait and choose more prudently than someone who's expected to shuffle off after a hundred or so years, and probably find it hard to conceptualise half the consequences that mortals face with disease, hunger, and essentially having a candle that burns both ends. I think Elrond tries very hard not to be judgemental like that, and quite a lot of other Elves seem to work at being more forward thinking, but there can be no doubt that by and large, they're a bunch of lovable and prodigious childlike snobs.

Caranthir beckoned me over to the one seat in the house and invited me to sit while he walked around, packing up the last of his goods.

"Tell me about the last couple of weeks," I requested as I got comfortable.

"Oddly enough, it is the busiest I have been in a long time, but I can relay it all in two sentences," he remarked thoughtfully.

"Don't worry, you can be sure I'll find a way to analyse both to within an inch of their lives," I said with a laugh. "Go ahead."

"Well, I cleaned the exterior of about ten houses," Caranthir gestured in the direction of the hills, beyond which the buildings sat, before quickly adding, "I didn't ever go inside the houses. I thought it might seem offensive to the Teleri to have me inside, and judging by Olwë's reaction, that was correct. But I thought it would be good to try and be of some use to you all here. I know I would want help if I were overhauling an entire city."

"You've certainly been training that empathy muscle of yours, Caranthir," I said encouragingly. "Excellent. You considered wants and needs, tailored to the circumstances no less, and then chose the best of the options available to you."

"Perhaps not the best," Caranthir murmured worriedly as he looked out toward the hills. "Olwë was not pleased."

"Not every gesture will be well-received, even if there isn't anything ostensibly wrong with it." I shrugged. "Part of the more challenging aspects of empathy are learning how to proceed in the face of unexpected reactions."

"And how should I?"

"Depends on the person and situation. The more you interact and reflect, the more nuanced your approach will be. Takes lots of practice. While you're developing those skills, though, I would suggest that you take the passive route and simply respect others' wishes without too much questioning."

Caranthir looked a little resigned as he nodded. "I think the passive route will be my fate for quite some time."

I nodded back. "It will be, but you'll find there is a unique beauty to it. There's no other opportunity to learn and grow like it. It's your chance to make the biggest changes to yourself, and you'll look back on the period and see huge value. Value enough that you'll hopefully continue to take the passive route from time to time even when you feel you've learned and grown enough to do well."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your optimism is something else."

"Another habit I can recommend. Does wonders for the blood pressure."

Caranthir's eyes widened in bewilderment. "The bl—what?"

"We don't have the time for an introductory lesson in anatomy and physiology, I'm afraid," I said ruefully. "We can take that up when next we cross paths. Now, how did your empathy homework go? Did you find the time to do it while you were cleaning up all these houses?"

He replied that he had and crossed the floor to where his bed stood. Opening the drawer to his bedside table, he produced a set of notes and handed them to me.

I had a look at them, and they were long. Essays of a thousand words at least for each event, and there were twelve of them. I spent the next fifteen minutes silently reading each one and found them to be very thoughtful and full of insight. Most of all, they were sad, because they had underpinnings of grim acceptance of the consequences throughout. Where there is acceptance, though, there is room to move on.

_Galadreth was aggrieved when she knew I had taken the oath of my father,_ he wrote in one section. _And Finrod told me he was displeased about it as well. He said that I showed nothing but brashness and a lack of decency in swearing to pursue the Silmarils at any cost, especially knowing it hurt Galadreth to see me get into such a dangerous thing. In hindsight, he was correct, and I believe he was worried for me as well as disappointed, and he may even have intended for his comments to hurt in the hope they would sufficiently convince me to break my oath. I should have listened to him. I should not have shouted and screamed at him, or taken a chair and broken it in front of him. It never needed to come to that; I ought to have paid attention to Galadreth's pain, and though she did not ever speak of it with me, I had no reason to ignore it._

I put the papers down on the desk. "I think you've done an excellent job with these, Caranthir," I said to him.

He looked up from the bag he was packing and sighed. "They were extremely difficult to write. I felt like a child again, giving myself a talking-to."

"Yeah, it's not easy to confront yourself about memories like that," I agreed. "Another one of those things that facilitates huge personal growth. Keeps you humble. You'll find it gets a bit easier over time, though, and you'll feel more like an adult the more you do it. I have nothing except praise for what you've written here, though. Can't find fault in it."

"I had a good teacher," he murmured.

"Ah, don't flatter me now," I said with a laugh. "You put in all the hard work here. I just asked you a couple of questions to put you on the right track. Speaking of which, how many losses of temper did you record in my absence?"

"One," Caranthir replied. A small hint of a triumphant smile came over his mouth. "And all I did was stomp my feet for a moment."

I smiled broadly at him. "That's just fantastic. In which case, Caranthir, I think you've put yourself well and truly within normal limits of anger. Unless you want to start training to become someone with absurdly large amounts of patience, there's not much left to do but strike out on your own and see where it gets you."

"So this is the end of therapy?"

"For this, yes, unless you feel the need to further refine your skills, though I would say they're already pretty damned good. You're always welcome back in my office if there's something else you'd like to discuss, however," I replied. "Do keep your notes with you, though. It can be handy to have a reference guide to keep your thoughts on track."

He stood up and took the notes back as I passed them to him, placing them in his bag. Standing again, he slung the two large bags on his shoulders and together, we made for the door.

"Ah, now don't forget these as you embark on your fresh start," I said quickly as I dove into my bag and grabbed out the two plates and glasses he'd requested from Tirion.

With a grateful nod, he took them and put them carefully into his bag.

"One small piece of advice, though, Caranthir, if I can take up a moment more of your time."

Caranthir looked up from his bag, waiting politely.

"If you should lose your temper again, or find that there are times when it gets harder to keep your head, be gentle with yourself. The game's not over if you slip up a little. It's only over when you give up. So when you make a mistake, read through your notes, reflect, and try again tomorrow, all right?"

"I will."

"You promise?" I asked with a small smile.

"I promise," he said firmly, his face resolute.

"That's the spirit. Well, happy travels, Caranthir. Best of luck, and do remember you can come find me any time should you want more help down the track."

"Thank you, Rhodri," Caranthir said quietly, a genuine smile breaking over his face now. He took a deep breath, turned around, and started walking toward the north, and as I waved to him, he waved back.

It's funny how goodbyes always have a feeling of finality to them, like a story coming to an end. In reality, though, that's very seldom the case. You might drop a loved one off at the airport in the morning as they make a journey that's been on your mind for weeks. The rest of your goings-on seemed to shrink away to nothing as the day of departure drew near, and heartbreaking as it is to see them go, once it's done, it's done. Suddenly, the rest of your schedule opens up, and the rest of the day's tasks, tiny as they might have been before, grow back to their regular size. As I watched Caranthir walk away, the discussion with Olwë and his viewing of the houses suddenly became much more pressing, more significant. Reluctantly, I turned and went back over the hill to find the others, wondering what sort of awkwardness awaited me there.

I got to the town and couldn't see a trace of them. Frowning a little, I instinctively went to the Celebration House, wondering if this was where the grand tour had taken Olwë.

As I crossed the porch, I could hear some noise coming from the floor above me, and I slipped inside and up the stairs to get to the epicentre of it. I paused near the top of the stairs and saw that everybody was clustered around Olwë, whom I could see through the gaps of the others' legs to be sitting on the couch. Bregedúr had heard me and raised her eyebrows at me roguishly, beckoning me to come over to them.

Nervously, I climbed the last stairs and knocked gently on the wall to get their attention. Everybody looked up right away.

"Hello," I said anxiously. "Can I ask how it went?"

Glorfindel beamed at me and held an arm out invitingly. My insides almost collapsed in a heap as the tension in my muscles disappeared. I strode over and he lovingly put his arm around my waist as we turned our attention back to Olwë. Olwë was also smiling at me- also an excellent sign.

"The Celebration House looks splendid," he said happily. "As beautiful as I remember it, if not more so now." He looked around him contentedly. "Even the furniture looks better somehow."

Elrond and Celebrían looked tickled pink at that comment, shuffling a little closer to each other as they, too, started to smile.

"If this is the sort of outcome we can expect from your work, please do continue here. It would be splendid to move back to Alqualondë again and resume my rule over the place. I have missed the sea terribly."

We grinned at each other massively. The committee had, technically, been disbanded at this point, but it didn't even matter. If Olwë moved back, things would really start to turn up around here. Others would surely trickle in after him, and Alqualondë would definitely start to show signs of life again.

"Ah… how do you feel about the wedding going ahead here, Olwë?" Gil-Galad broached cautiously, putting an arm around Erestor and drawing him close.

"Oh, it absolutely must go ahead here, yes," Olwë said with a nod. "There's going to be nowhere more lovely than Alqualondë once the restoration is complete, and I think I might even be a little offended if you think somewhere else could be superior." He winked and laughed a little, the uncharacteristic good humour making his wintry beauty all the more pleasant to behold.

Olwë departed for Tirion the next day, insisting that he would rather see the city complete before he stayed for any extended period. We worked tirelessly after that. I'm quite sure the Elves got their energy from the surge of excitement that had come with the promise of a revitalised city, and others from around the place had also heard of our works and came along to help out. There would have been around eighty, ninety buildings in total, and along with the roads that we ripped up and re-laid, the entire project of fixing Alqualondë and making it wedding-ready was finished an entire month ahead of schedule.

"I can hardly believe it," Elrond said over dinner on the evening we had finished working. "We have managed to rejuvenate a whole city within a year."

We nodded, positively blown away by the progress ourselves.

"How did we even do it?" Bregedúr murmured as she took a sip of nectar.

"Something something, lack of sleep, I believe was the gist of it," I replied with a chuckle. The others laughed in that 'it's funny because it's true, dear god I'm bloody knackered' sort of way.

After dinner, we went our separate ways so that we could catch up on the hobbies we'd foregone during our frenzied reconstruction period. I was quite sure Elrond and Celebrían were about to devour a handful of books. Bregedúr and Daereth, ever the adrenaline junkies, continued the sword fighting lessons they'd been missing out in the training yards, illuminated by the light of the moon and a few torches. Gloredhel and Galwen, both keen night fishers, were out on their boat before we could blink, and as for Gil-Galad and Erestor, I was sure they had plenty of things to whisper to each other, and so they disappeared without a trace.

That left Glorfindel and me at the table alone. Glorfindel grinned at me broadly and said, "What do you think of a few rounds on the trampoline?"

"Tempting," I replied, "But let's take a walk first. I want your opinion on something, if you don't mind."

Curious, Glorfindel nodded, and together we got up and went outside into the warm night air.

"Where shall we go?" he asked.

"Oh, anywhere will do," I said calmly. "How about a stroll through the town?"

As Glorfindel nodded cheerfully, I took his hand in mine and we started walking along the main path, the 'artery of Alqualondë,' as I called it.

For a short while, we didn't say anything, lapsing into a comfortable silence, the prize of knowing someone for a long time. We wordlessly admired our handiwork as we passed by the buildings and fountains that were bathed in silvery moonlight. Everything looked neat and perfectly aligned, but still managed to feel like it had been lived in.

"Not to be overly self-congratulatory or anything, but haven't we made a fantastic job of the place?" I put an arm around Glorfindel's waist and gestured grandly with my free hand at the Celebration House and everything around it.

Glorfindel beamed and nodded. "Oh yes," he enthused. "It all looks absolutely splendid. I think we have some very happy times ahead of us, beloved."

"And wait until it starts filling with people in earnest," I added.

"Mmm," he agreed as he drew me closer to him. "Safe, pleasant, and full of adventure."

"The perfect sort of place to raise a family, really, don't you think?" I remarked offhandedly as I stroked his hip with my thumb. I had the devil's own job resisting the urge to look over at him in my attempt to stay deadpan, but for all my efforts, I was unable to keep the smile off my face as I said it.

Glorfindel turned to face me and swivelled me around a little as well as his face showed cautious disbelief.

"R-Rhodri, do you-?" he murmured. He put his hands on my shoulders, carefully watching me as if he could scarcely believe his ears.

"Well, we're finally out of danger, and you know I've always thought you'd make a terrific father," I replied, trying to keep my excitement in check as I added, "I'm certainly up for it if you are."

The astonished look stayed on his face for a moment before a huge ecstatic smile practically unzipped Glorfindel's face from one ear to the other. He let out a joyful, thrilled laugh that pierced the night sky and was contagious enough to have me chortling happily myself.

Before I could ask him if that was a yes or a no, he had pressed his body hard against mine and pulled me into a deep but vigorous kiss that got more intense by the second.

"Tell me, beloved," he murmured when we came up for air, "are you free this evening?" His blue eyes glowed like combusting sulphur as he regarded me intently.

"Oh yes," I replied, biting my lip as my heart rate shot up.

"Excellent." He took my hand and together, we hastily retreated to the house and up to where our quarters were, careful not to catch the attention of anyone else along the way. The return journey had taken a handful of minutes, even with the speed at which we moved, and the tension had gotten so high that my ears were almost ringing from it.

When we stepped inside our quarters, Glorfindel closed the double doors behind us and with the same intentness but now much more softly, drew me into another kiss. He stroked my cheek with one hand as the other took my robe off and let it fall to the floor. His other arm free again, he scooped me up and held me close to his body as he carried me into our bedroom and gently set me down beside the bed.

I could feel my temperature start to climb as Glorfindel deftly started to undo the buttons on my shirt, his face so close to mine that I could smell the salt from the sea air on him. As I reached out to start freeing him from his own clothing, he leaned in and lightly started to kiss my neck. A small, sharp inward breath seemed to come from me, but I could hardly tell what was coming from whom, the heady atmosphere was getting so intoxicating.

The noise made Glorfindel sit up, and he looked down at me lovingly a moment before slipping his hands around my bare back, pulling me upright as he took the shirt off me and stood off the bed to place it on the ground.

My top half bare, I reached out again to start unfastening the clasps at the front of his shirt while he removed his robe, and then he took over from the top, where we met in the middle. He let his arms fall to his side as I slid the shirt off his smooth, broad shoulders, sending it to the floor with the other clothes.

Glorfindel climbed back onto the bed up to my side and sought my lips again, his breath growing quite audible now as he took my breasts in his hands and massaged them. My own hands wandered down his muscular back down to the dimples just above his pants line, a place that was extra sensitive on Glorfindel, and I gently scraped my nails up it. He let out a small groan and kissed a little harder in response, angling himself strategically so that his very obvious arousal gently rubbed up the length of my inner thigh. My back arched reflexively and a whimper escaped me as my own arousal made my entire body like one throbbing pulse.

Glorfindel smiled, his eyes shimmering like stars. He took one hand and undid the tie keeping my pants up, slipping his hand into my underwear. As his fingers seemed to gauge how wet I was, he shut his eyes a moment and shivered, gently stroking me with a finger.

The noise I made had evolved into a loud moan as the arousal started to overwhelm me. Almost frantic with lust now, I quickly untied Glorfindel's pants and put a hand down there to firmly massage his hard, slippery erection. He hissed and shut his eyes tightly but kept rubbing me. Just when I thought I was about to explode, Glorfindel took his hand out of my pants and looked at me, a fine sheen of sweat on his face and his breathing ragged.

"If you keep going, sweet one, I will finish before we even get started," he panted, jaw slackened a little.

"I might say the same for you, beloved," I gasped back.

"Perhaps we can reach some sort of mutually beneficial solution to this conundrum, then," Glorfindel said coyly, a little more together now as he peeled me out of my pants and brushed them off the bed.

"Oh, I'm sure something can be arranged," I replied in a mock-contemplative tone as he stood up and slipped his own pair off. I bit my lip as I took in the vision of him there, completely bare and glistening a little in the dim light of the oil lamp. He never stopped being a delight to look at, and I felt the arousal make me ache a little.

Glorfindel glanced up and must have seen me giving him the eye, because he was back on the bed in a heartbeat and on top of me in another.

"You know I can't resist when you give me that look," he murmured hoarsely. His uncovered erection went up my thigh again, and he grabbed my waist as he kissed me feverishly now, the rubbing against me getting more insistent and moving higher up my leg until our simultaneous moans made the kiss break.

"Have me?" he gasped, his breaths hard and fast as his wide, lascivious eyes searched mine.

I nodded, my body almost burning now. "Have me, too?"

He nodded back and without breaking eye contact, he eased himself inside me, shuddering a little before getting into a quick rhythm. I pulled him into an almost bruising kiss as I ran my fingers through his soft, thick hair. The groan of pleasure that came out of him only spurred me on, our tongues now probing further and further in each other's mouths as the pace picked up further.

The pleasure was already building up again in me, and I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to hold off the inevitable. I tried to slow it down a little by taking Glorfindel's firm rump in my hands and easing him into a slower pattern. Unfortunately, that seemed to help even less because though it slowed him, he went in deeper still.

"I love you," I gasped quietly as the pressure in my stomach grew.

Glorfindel paused, propped himself up a little and stroked my cheek as he gave me a tender smile. His shoulders rose and fell rapidly with his erratic intakes of air. I felt the tension start to slowly recede now that we were still.

"I love you, too," he murmured back breathlessly as he leaned closer again, slowly starting up once more and moving his mouth back by my ear. The tension in my stomach shot back and was spreading rapidly, and I could feel myself starting to lose my command over it. I shut my eyes tightly and tautened my muscles as I tried to buy myself more time.

Glorfindel, not missing a beat, leaned down to brush my lips with his and moved across until his mouth was right by my ear. "Come for me, beloved," he whispered as he began kissing my neck and moving harder and deeper into me.

My eyes flew open. I don't think I needed the encouragement, but if there was even a shred of control I had over the matter, Glorfindel's whispers put paid to it. I felt his name escape my mouth as I gave in to the huge pleasure that overwhelmed me, and not a second after, Glorfindel followed right behind.

"Aaah, I can't-" he began before he clutched me to him and moaned loudly, finishing inside me.

Neither Glorfindel nor I could really recall what had happened between finishing and awakening in the middle of the next morning. We were fairly sure we hadn't sleepwalked or, indeed, moved at all, as we both were in the last position we could remember being in the night before. This was apparently due to the huge physical and mental cost that came to both parties when reproducing. I had known that to be the case for the Elves, but apparently it was also such for the Maiar. We were still a little tired even the next day, but managed to get it together well enough after breakfast and a swim in the ocean. Enough that we weren't _total_ zombies that day, anyway.


	88. Finger pointing and name calling

** Vicky: **I'm probably not the person to ask about that sort of thing when it comes to the romantics of speech, because I'm a bit of a robot in that regard (thanks autism haha). My answer is that the sun is a type of star, so while I understand they're trying to allude to the sentiment of something finite that burns extra bright vs. something steadily, eternally shining, in practice it doesn't quite work. Perhaps a more accurate analogy would be something like a sparkler vs. the flame of a Bunsen burner. The sparkler, once lit, burns brightly and spits and crackles all the way to the bottom, where it gently fizzles out. The Bunsen burner, however, is on for as long as the gas supply is there, much in the same way that the lifespan of the Elves is tied to the lifespan of Arda. So yeah I agree with you, but in a slightly different way :D

** Alysant: **Excuse the delayed reply! I remember reading a few theories as to where Glorfindel fit into things family-wise. I never was able to work out how Glorfindel's folks linked up with others, so I just figured it was a noble line of Vanyar Elves all their own. Either that or Indis had a sister called Galwen. Legit enough, right? :P

§

Glorfindel and I both decided to keep the pregnancy under our hats until about a month after the wedding, so as to not overshadow Gil-Galad and Erestor's big day. It seemed a feasible sort of thing to do. It wasn't often that those carrying children were obviously pregnant by the first quarter, and since I tended to wear rather loose robes, none of us were especially concerned we might be found out.

That was foolish of us, however, because both Glorfindel and I were terrible at keeping surprises to ourselves. The others knew this, too, of course, and were almost immediately suspicious.

"Is everything all right, you two?" Elrond broached carefully over breakfast about a week after. "You've both been especially energetic of late." The others looked on in interest, as though Elrond had said what they were all thinking.

"Energetic?" Glorfindel asked innocently. "How so?"

"Things are better than all right," I replied calmly, smoothing over Glorfindel's ridiculous attempt to pretend he hadn't been twice as zippy and enthusiastic as usual of late. I took a sip of tea. "We're going to see our best friends marry in three weeks' time, and the town is moments away from being full of life again. What's not to be energetic about?"

They all seemed to collectively raise an eyebrow, but didn't press the matter further.

Well, at least not for the rest of breakfast, anyway. There were other attempts, but these were equally brushed off.

Things got a little more difficult to conceal about a week and a half later, though, when the countdown was T-minus nine days. People from Tirion started to pour in, and I found myself quite relieved that we'd cleared every building up, because we needed absolutely all of them to accommodate this massive influx.

Olwë was even more pleased this time around, and it seemed that he had informed a number of the Teleri of the goings-on, because that group made up a surprisingly large number of arrivals, given the wedding was for the former King of the Noldor. All of them looked most satisfied with what they saw, and it was nice to see them feel at home again. In a kind display of generosity, though many of the families went to their original homes, they opened them to the other Elves who knew Gil-Galad, and almost seemed as though any enmity had made way for a renewed friendliness between them. It wasn't necessary or even expected, but they did it anyway.

For the remaining days leading up to the wedding, we got a taste of what a bustling Alqualondë was like, and we were very taken with it indeed. All of the committee members must have said some three, four times a day how much better it was with a bit of life breathed into it, and such comments were always met with vigorous nods, as though it was the first time someone had thought to say it. Happiness was odd like that.

Our house was mostly packed with closer acquaintances and family of Gil-Galad and Erestor, since the two of them lived there. Leftover rooms from that were taken up by the attending Lords of Gondolin, which was where my cover was starting to get blown. Rog had, of course, shown up with the hammers he had promised, and was looking incredibly keen to spar. Bregedúr and Glorfindel both happily obliged, emerging from rounds with varying degrees of wins and losses.

I had tried to cover up by allowing the others to 'go ahead of me,' pretending to be extremely modest when in reality, I was hankering to get Rog in a headlock so he could give me my prized hammer. That only held out for so long, though, and eventually, Rog started to get curious.

"You haven't taken your hammer from me yet, Rhodri," he remarked casually at the lunch table a few days into his stay.

My eyes widened as I stared down at my potatoes, and I knew the gazes of quite a few people were on me now. This was not aided by the frozen look of worry on Glorfindel's face that I saw when I glanced sideways.

"No, you're quite right," I said slowly as I put my fork down, hoping that some fabulous excuse would come to mind. Nothing of the sort turned up, so I decided to wing it and hope for the best. "I do apologise for the delay, but I wouldn't feel right accepting the hammer until after we had sparred."

Rog nodded in understanding. "That is quite reasonable. The Maiar manners are most admirable in that regard." I had to stifle a snort as I considered what these people would have to say about 'Maiar manners' if they lived with Olórin for a week. All the same, though, it was a relief that it seemed to have settled the subject.

Except that it hadn't. My hopes that he would happily dismiss the topic were shattered like a dropped vase as Rog went on to say, "Not to worry. We can spar right now, if it is agreeable to you. I have rather been looking forward to going head-to-head with one trained by Tulkas himself."

Glorfindel's internal scream reached my ears as a tiny squeak, his eyes wide as dinner plates now. And so, yet again, Rhodri had to pretend someone was choking to help them save face.

"Oh goodness, darling, I _did_ tell you you're supposed to chew your bread before you swallow it," I said lovingly as I delivered a few sharp blows between Glorfindel's shoulder blades. With my free hand, I passed him his glass of water and paused as he drained it quickly. "You Elves really are a danger to yourselves sometimes." With an affectionate squeeze to his shoulder and a small smile, I turned back to my food, only to see Rog and the others looking at me again expectantly. Bugger.

"Oh, right, yes, sorry, the sparring match. Yes, well, unfortunately, I won't be able to get involved in any physical activity for the next little while," I said, crossing my fingers they they wouldn't pry.

They did. Of course they did.

The Bib-and-Brace Club members all goggled at me, knowing that I was not one to ever shy away from an opportunity to engage in something fast-paced and dangerous.

I squinted at Elrond, among the more shocked of them.

"What is it, meldir? Can't believe your luck?"

Slightly embarrassed at having been called out, Elrond cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "I would be in happy disbelief were I not wondering if you are about to die. I cannot imagine why else you would turn down an opportunity to spar with the strongest of all the Elves, especially at the prospect of receiving a hammer..."

I laughed a little. "Well, be assured I'm not going to die. I do seem to have some sort of anomalous physical process occurring, though. It's happened among the Maiar before and does not appear to be deadly, so I'm not especially concerned."

Gil-Galad, Erestor, and Elrond, the token worriers, started wringing their hands. Bregedúr and Celebrían, chief eyebrow-raisers, did exactly that.

"I did not know such things affected the Maiar," Rog murmured in surprise, and the others nodded in agreement.

"It's quite rare, but it'll pass soon enough. I just have to avoid strenuous activity for the next little while. I appreciate the understanding in the meantime."

There followed a small period of quiet while they sat in puzzlement, gingerly picking away at their food. It afforded me just enough time to glance at Glorfindel, now visibly relieved and the only one who was happily eating.

"Oh! Hello, Olórin," I greeted him with a broad smile outside the door to Elrond and Celebrían's balcony. I hadn't seen much of him over the last while as he had been spending much of his time keeping Frodo and Bilbo company and tending to them as needed. I think it was how he assuaged the guilt he felt for their involvement in all the business with Sauron back in Arda. "Good to see you! Coming for Happy Hour?"

"I certainly am," Olórin replied pleasantly, smiling back at Glorfindel and me in a mildly smug way. "Elrond said something about wanting my help with something this afternoon.

His demeanour had me a little confused, but I shrugged it off very quickly, putting it down to the fact that he had probably been zonked out on pipeweed for the last fortnight.

"Good-oh," I said as I knocked on the door. It opened a moment later to reveal a rather curiously resolute Elrond, who smiled and ushered us out onto the balcony. He wasn't usually inclined to herd us like that—well, at least not for Happy Hour. It was like he thought we might run away or something. Dismissing the notion that Elrond might finally be revealing himself as a serial killer, we all took our customary seats.

"Full house today," I remarked cheerfully. Along with Elrond and Celebrían, Gil-Galad, Erestor, and Bregedúr were also present. They all looked rather businesslike as well, and I found myself getting quite curious as to what was going on. Celebrían poured the three of us newcomers a glass of apple nectar each and passed them out to us.

"I'm glad you could make it today, Rhodri, Glorfindel-" Elrond began as he laced his fingers together and placed them in his lap.

I looked at Elrond in disbelief. "What do you mean, _make it?"_ I enquired in a tone that did not conceal my bafflement in the slightest. "Elrond, we've been coming to you for Happy Hour every day for thousands of years. You're making it sound like it's a miracle we showed up."

My interruption seemed to throw him off track a little, and he faltered as he tried to continue. The others all had their eyes fixed on Glorfindel and me—except Olórin, who was calmly sipping on his drink and watching the birds.

"All right, what's going on here? You're all acting like you're staging a mediation or something. Look, if it's about my consumption of bread, I'll have you know I can stop any time I want!" I declared hotly, my mouth watering at the mention of the magic food.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Rhodri," Elrond snapped, now having found his words again. "This has nothing to do with your diet! We want to know why you and Glorfindel are acting so strangely!"

"We're happy about the upcoming wedding," Glorfindel replied quickly with a shrug that didn't seem to convince anyone.

"Come on, you two," Bregedúr groaned. "The Maiar don't have 'physically anomalous processes.' What sort of a lie were you trying to feed Rog back there?"

"Oh, my physical condition has indeed changed," I replied smoothly. "That was no lie."

Olórin's eyes flicked over to me for a second before he took another mouthful of nectar.

"What do you mean?" Celebrían asked, a tone of worry creeping into her voice.

"Do you really want to know?" I asked, making myself sound as resigned as possible. Glorfindel made another small squeak as his wide eyes went onto me.

"Of course we do! Look at what it's doing to Glorfindel," Elrond said as he gestured at my spouse. "He is terrified for you! And you, well, you conceal your suffering at the best of times, so goodness knows what's really going on with you."

"We are your best friends!" Bregedúr continued. "You need to share the burden with us, and we will take good care of you while you heal." All present nodded fervently, except Olórin, who had a small vein appearing in his temple.

I was touched but also extremely amused by all this. Keeping myself in character, I held up my hands calmly.

"All right, all right," I relented, taking a deep breath. "See, here's the thing…" I paused, quickly searching for a plausible excuse. I hastily started to fabricate a story about playing host to a commensal organism (like a parasite in that it drains resources but does no harm to its host) which would take a while to resolve. In the few seconds it took me to put it together, I went to speak again, but Glorfindel interrupted me. He looked completely frenzied, like the pressure of keeping the news a secret had gotten too much for him and he'd finally gone off his rocker.

"We're having a baby," he screeched loudly, so animated as he waved his arms that I had to duck so I didn't get brained by a flying elbow. A stunned silence fell quiet over the room, interrupted only by Olórin.

_"Two,_ actually," he remarked in a self-satisfied tone, a tiny smile turning up his lips as he suppressed a laugh.

"Darling, we were supposed to wait until after the wedd—" I began to say to Glorfindel before Olórin's comment registered. "Wait, what did you say?" I exclaimed as I turned to Olórin.

"You are expecting two infants. You know, twins," he replied off-handedly.

My jaw dropped, and total bedlam ensued. Bregedúr threw her fist into the air with a triumphant roar which was joined in by Gil-Galad and Erestor not long after. Olórin was cackling away, looking extremely pleased at the shock he'd managed to give me. Elrond and Celebrían had become surprisingly emotional, and I saw tears running down their cheeks as they beamed and clapped hard. As for Glorfindel, god help me. He'd completely lost it and was sobbing hysterically and at great volume by this point, the apparent whirlwind of emotions having totally overwhelmed him.

"So when can we expect the new arrivals?" Bregedúr asked when the frantic din started to die down.

"Oh, in about eleven months from now, I'd guess," I replied. I had no idea what day. I was terrible at keeping track of these things.

"You've known for a _month_ now and you didn't tell us?" she exclaimed in outrage.

I let out a groan. _"Yes,_ you fools. And we would have kept it under our hats even longer if you hadn't been so damned keen to get it out of us! We didn't want to interrupt wedding proceedings with news of a pregnancy!" I gestured at Gil-Galad and Erestor now before sighing. "We were going to tell you all in about a month and a half's time, but you _had_ to probe!"

I felt terribly guilty about this news being unveiled so close to the day of the wedding now. So did Glorfindel. Together, we looked contritely at the happy couple.

"We're so sorry," Glorfindel said to them, drying his eyes on his sleeve. I nodded sadly in agreement. This wasn't how we'd envisioned telling anyone about this. "We really wanted to wait until later so we wouldn't overshadow things."

"But we're so happy to hear it," murmured Gil-Galad with a warm smile. Erestor nodded, beaming at us.

"Well, look, let's just keep it to ourselves for a while longer, and we can celebrate in earnest later on. Can we do that?" I asked, hoping they would be open to my request.

To my relief, my request was taken well, and that was that. It would staywhile strictly between us until one month after the wedding. Not even Glorfindel's parents could know, because they were even worse than their offspring at concealing their excitement.

Luckier still was the fact that Rog didn't press the issue any further. He was polite enough to conceal his disappointment that sparring would have to wait a while, assuring me that as soon as I was 'well' again, our combat would kick off.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Gil-Galad and Erestor's wedding day arrived, and we once again donned our gay apparel as we escorted the happy couple to the Celebration House. We realised there wasn't nearly enough room in the house, vast though it was, for the every that had come here. At a guess, there would have been around a thousand people, if not more.

That didn't bother Erestor and Gil-Galad in the slightest, though, and what ended up happening was a mass picnic as people went inside the house, grabbed some food and drink, and sat outside. We feasted outside, Erestor and Gil-Galad said the magic words outside, and by golly, we partied outside, too. All night, in fact, and some way into the next morning. It ended up being the first beach wedding in Valinor's history, and people were loving it.

Things settled down into a curious sort of ever-changing normal after that. As the months passed, my abdomen expanded, and I began looking more and more like I'd swallowed a balloon. It was… interesting. And it made me a lot more accident prone, too. That belly ended up being like a shelf, and there was seldom two consecutive days that my late-pregnancy battering ram didn't sweep something off a table or whack into someone if I turned too fast. It would have been funny if I didn't feel so guilty when I walked somewhere and anyone sitting down reflexively ducked. It was like watching Indiana Jones escape that giant boulder, only I was the boulder. I firmly decided that if there was a next life, Glorfindel would be the one getting knocked up.

The only thing that struck me as a little off in the whole thing was that Elrond and Celebrían had both gotten rather subdued. I was almost certain I knew what was going on, but I was afraid to bring it up with them: their thoughts went to Arwen, whose days, albeit plentiful, were finite. I was sure they also thought of Elladan and Elrohir, their departure for Valinor still not entirely guaranteed. One certain loss, and the remaining two hanging in the balance all the while. Even in HappyLand, that was bound to be an unthinkably huge burden.

Naturally, as Glorfindel and I had both spent millennia being around Celebrían and Elrond, we couldn't help but be attuned to this shift in mood. From the moment they'd started shedding tears when the pregnancy was revealed, the worry for them had been on our minds often.

"What is there to say to them?" I mused to Glorfindel as we played in the ocean, bobbing up and down in sync with the smallish waves.

"I wish I knew," he replied with a sigh. "Can we even say something without it seeming like we are rubbing our happiness in their faces or making them feel guilty for being upset?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know if any comfort of any sort we offer them would be taken well." I shrugged as I held one hand out for Glorfindel to stand on and launched him a few metres in the air. He arched into a graceful swan dive and landed back into the ocean with barely a splash.

"But it seems unfair to leave them as is, too," he said as he resurfaced and wiped the water off his face.

"Mmm," I agreed. "We'd better sit down and talk with them, I think."

Glorfindel let out a puff of air and rubbed my belly affectionately.

"Have you thought of any names for them?" I asked with a smile.

He shook his head. "Not yet. I know it is my task to pick these first names of theirs, but I am having a difficult time finding anything that seems suitable." Glorfindel looked up at me curiously. "Do you know of any naming customs among the Maiar? Perhaps that might provide a little inspiration."

I chuckled. "I suppose we would have to ask Tulkas about that. I can give you plenty of ideas from my mother and father, though."

His eyes widened like he'd just had a shower thought. "Do you know, I never did ask how you got your name…"

My chuckle quickly grew into a loud, wheezing laugh, which had Glorfindel quite surprised.

"... Beloved?" he said as I slapped the water (being unable to reach my knee at this point).

"Sorry, darling," I said as I got my breath back. "I just know you're going to love this story."

He didn't speak, but watched in fascination as he waited for me to proceed.

"I'm told my mother's pregnancy with me was a difficult one. Mortal pregnancies can often be fraught with danger for the parent and the child, and for some time there, I was not expected to survive."

Glorfindel gulped. "I am not liking the story thus far."

"It gets better, I promise," I assured him. "Anyway, a very skilled physician took her under his care and by some miracle managed to get me out of there alive. My parents were so relieved that they told the midwife to name me after the doctor, before they'd even seen me. The doctor was a huge, burly man called Rhodri, and it wasn't until after the midwife congratulated them on their daughter that they realised they'd just given me a man's name. But they'd gotten used to the name by that point and decided they'd keep it."

Glorfindel's eyes were almost falling out of his head at this point. Words appeared to totally fail him. It was almost diametrically opposed to Elven ideals for name giving.

"Feeling inspired?" I asked with a wicked grin.

"Ah…" he began, his tone careful and diplomatic.

I chortled. "Don't worry, I didn't tell you that to give you ideas. But certainly where I grew up, both parents picked a first name and one or two middle names."

"Middle names?"

"Mmm. They're usually for the purpose of passing down other family names, but they can also be used to honour particularly loved relatives and friends. I got the middle name Violet after a close friend of my parents' with the same name."

"That is a thoughtful sentiment," he murmured, looking quite taken with the idea.

"We can give them middle names if you like," I suggested.

Glorfindel smiled. "Excellent," he said before pausing. "Only now, we have even more names to choose, and thinking up two was difficult enough."

"Yes, that is something of a challenge. But I do wonder, how do you think Celebrían and Elrond would feel about us using some part of their names in there?"

"I imagine they would be very pleased," he mused.

The question was: how would we go about applying these names? It would be rather awkward to give the names of a married couple to siblings, we decided, so we started throwing around other ideas. Choose names with similar meanings? But how many words meant the same thing as 'star-dome' like Elrond's name, I asked. Let them pick something? Ah, but that puts pressure on them, Glorfindel pointed out.

"This is harder than I thought it would be," I thought aloud as we lay on the shore some time later.

"Yes, it is, rather," Glorfindel concurred quietly. "And what of our other friends? Wouldn't they feel a little envious knowing our children got Elrond and Celebrían's names and not theirs?"

I shrugged. "We need not give them just one middle name each. Lots of people have multiple middle names. My mother's family was rather well-off and fancy, and those circles were notorious for giving their children three, four, or even five."

"Elrond, Celebrían, Gil-Galad, Erestor, and Bregedúr," he counted off on his fingers. "That is quite a lot of names."

I chewed my lip thoughtfully. "Would it be odd if we combined some names?" I cringed inwardly as I said it as those dreadful celebrity couple portmanteaux like _Brangelina_ and _TomKat_ came to mind.

"Well, names are often unique here," Glorfindel replied pensively. "Parents simply choose words that seem descriptive and sound pleasant to the ear. I suppose the way we make the name is novel, but then, middle names are new territory here anyway, so it hardly seems to matter."

"How about… hmm… Celebrond, then? It's a normal sort of name, right?"

Glorfindel nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes! I like that one! Let me try making one now. Let's see… Bregeb—no, wait… ah… Eralad? No, that won't do at all…" he jiggled his foot up and down as he made more umms and ahhs than one would usually produce in a year.

"Looks easier when someone else does, it, doesn't it?" I said, laughing a little as Glorfindel nodded fervently. "I know we already know a Gildor, but it takes a bit out of both Erestor and Gil-galad's names… would it be criminal if we recycled it?"

Glorfindel shook his head. "There are at least two Gildors floating around. I like that one, too."

We hadn't finished working out all of the names by the time we decided to go back up to the house, but we at least knew what we wanted to suggest to Elrond and Celebrían. The trick now would be working up the nerve to do it…


	89. I welcome our infant overlords

** earthdragon: **The Elves didn't always recycle names, but I think much of it depended on the name itself. When there was the issue with Glorfindel of Gondolin having the same name as Glorfindel of Imladris, for example, Tolkien decided that a name _that_ striking had to be for just one Elf of huge importance. He was happy enough for something like Galdor and Legolas to get dished out to more than one, though. Gildor's one letter off, so I figure eh, why the hell not? Plus it sounds better than some hideous portmanteau like Erednor.

Don't worry, though, the middle names (maximum of two!) are basically being relegated to announcement at birth, and maybe if the offspring are in big trouble, meaning most people wouldn't even know they were there unless they asked. Just enough weirdness to make for a good icebreaker at a party, I guess. I won't say more here lest I give away things...

§

Our chance to sit down and speak with Elrond and Celebrían two-on-two came that very afternoon. Gil-Galad and Erestor had taken a raincheck on Happy Hour that day to begin the long-put-off task of unpacking their things in their newly-combined quarters. Bregedúr was also conveniently busy, keenly teaching the equally eager Daereth how to wield the battle hammer gifted by Rog.

As perfect as the opportunity was, Glorfindel and I weren't keen to take it. The whole situation just ached with unpleasant awkwardness. Still, though, we were duty-bound to say something, and so as we stood outside the door and I knocked, we both leaned close to each other and quickly delivered the fastest pep talk in recorded history.

"So remember, sensitive but straightforward—"

"And leave the names for another time, we'll just focus on their feelings—"

"Don't press it if they don't want to discuss it—"

"That's as good as we can hope for, right?"

"Yes."

The door opened just in time for Elrond to see us smack our heads together as we both nodded hard, having forgotten to move away before engaging in such a vigorous gesture.

Elrond stood there, watching us with a raised eyebrow as we hissed in pain and rubbed our foreheads.

"We shouted out several times that the door was open, you two," he said, biting back a tiny smirk. "Are you both all right?"

We scowled a little and nodded, this time being very diligent about making space between us first.

Elrond snorted, shook his head in affectionate resignation and steered us in and through to the balcony, where Celebrían was waiting for us with nectar.

"How was the water today?" Celebrían asked as we sat down. "We could see you two splashing around from up here."

"Oh, it was lovely," Glorfindel purred. "Warm enough to be bathwater."

"We just need to furnish the place with some sort of diving platform, and then the fun can really start," I murmured.

Glorfindel's eyes lit up at my proposal, but then our keenness faded as we saw that Elrond and Celebrían had nodded but not really been entirely engaged otherwise. We shared a glance and knew it was time to speak up.

"Look, this is going to sound rather awkward coming from us two right now," I started slowly, "But we've noticed you've both been pretty quiet of late."

Elrond and Celebrían looked at each other and sighed. "We're sorry," Celebrían said regretfully. Elrond nodded in sorrowful agreement.

"Don't be," Glorfindel said, shaking his head for emphasis. "We didn't bring this up to make you feel guilty."

"Not at all," I backed him up. "We just have an inkling that you're both having a difficult time right now. Glorfindel and I have a feeling we know why, but we just want to let you know that if we can do anything for you, we certainly will."

"And even if there isn't anything we can do, we are thinking of you and care about you very deeply," Glorfindel added.

A plaintive look was shared between Elrond and Celebrían, and I felt my stomach turn. Had we made it worse? Or was it like ripping off a band-aid, a little pain now paving the way for healing later on?

"It shouldn't be like this," Elrond murmured. "We should not be so withdrawn right now, not when it is your own turn to have this delight. You celebrated with us so vibrantly when we were expecting…" He stopped, not quite able to finish the sentence, and bit down on his lip hard.

Celebrían's eyes were shut. She and Elrond gripped each other's hand so tightly that you could see the outline of the joints against the skin.

"It just… hurts so terribly to think of them," Celebrían breathed.

"Should we have just left it?" came from Glorfindel's mind.

"No, I think we did the right thing in bringing it up."

"It doesn't feel like it…"

We watched on as the two of them hid their faces in their hands and we could see their shoulders begin to heave. I ached on their behalf.

"No, it doesn't, does it…"

Slowly, we got to our feet and approached them. Glorfindel squatted beside Elrond's and I got onto my knees next to Celebrían, and together, we cautiously put our hands on their shoulders, which they showed no sign of rejecting. In fact, they seemed to slump toward us, their faces still buried in the palms of their hands.

I'm not sure why I thought it was a good idea, but I gently pulled Celebrían further forward until she was resting against my shoulder. The face of sharp, lively Arwen ghosted into my mind, and I heaved a sigh.

"It's awful, isn't it," I uttered quietly.

Glorfindel did the same action with Elrond, who said, "It isn't fair. It's so cruel," just loud enough for all of us to hear, his voice cracking badly as he spoke.

We stayed in that position for a solid hour, engulfed in misery and silence. What was there to say? What words could possibly comfort parents who were trapped in both certain and uncertain grief? Glorfindel and I couldn't do a single thing to help, and second to Elrond and Celebrían's heartbreak, that powerlessness was the worst part.

Eventually, they both sat up, their faces blotchy and covered in various lachrymal by-products. Glorfindel and I passed them their drinks, which they gratefully took. Still kneeling by them, I said to the two of them, "I promise we didn't bring this up for the sole purpose of getting you emotional. I know that it must be hard to be around us right now, though, so we want to know if you'd like us to give you some space for the next little while."

They both shook their heads quickly. "No," Celebrían said, though it sounded more like a request than a firm answer. "We don't want to miss any of this."

"Not a second of it," Elrond added. "We wish to celebrate with you, but the bittersweetness of it all is a little overwhelming. We can't hide it quite as well as we would like."

"That is quite understandable," Glorfindel said soothingly as he sandwiched one of Elrond's hands between his two.

"Well then, how about this," I proposed. "We carry on as normal, and instead of hiding your feelings, you can be open about them with us if you feel comfortable. You're not going to spoil things. The kids are going to arrive no matter what the collective mood is, don't worry."

The three of them snorted a little, always a good sign.

"We feel terrible for having been so withdrawn this entire time," Celebrían murmured, her spouse concurring with a remorseful nod. "We could have revelled in this a lot more than we did."

"You're entitled to feel how you want," I replied, "But really, we just wanted to make sure you were at least reasonably all right in all this. We weren't personally offended or hurt that you went a bit quiet."

"Not at all," Glorfindel chimed in. "In fact, we would like to run something by you for your consideration."

I glanced over at him in amusement, and he gave me a guilty smile. This pregnancy business was completely wrecking his ability to keep a lid on news that was intended to be shared later, and I found it hilarious.

Elrond and Celebrían looked at us with interest. "Oh?"

Chuckling, I explained the concept of middle names, which they seemed to find intriguing and pleasantly sentimental.

"We wondered how you would feel about one or both of the children taking your names in some form," Glorfindel broached.

Their mouths opened a little as they exchanged astonished looks with each other.

"_Us?" _ Celebrían asked, gesturing at her and Elrond.

Normally I would have made some sort of sarcastic remark at that sort of question, but I didn't think it wise to do that now. In a most uncharacteristic manner, I gently and affectionately confirmed that we had indeed meant them.

"Naturally, we understand that this is not a practice among the Elves. The middle names would probably not be used on a day-to-day basis, and are more of an ornament or a tribute than anything else. If you're not comfortable with the idea, though, you can naturally decline and there will be no hard feelings at all."

"Oh, no, please do," Elrond said quickly.

"Don't mistake our being moved for reluctance," Celebrían added. "We are very touched."

Glorfindel and I grinned at each other.

"We were thinking of giving the middle name Celebrond," he told them. "It would have been somewhat odd to give a pair of siblings your names, we thought."

A slight look of relief passed over their faces as they heard that.

"That is a magnificent name," Celebrían said. Elrond joined her in beaming at us as he nodded happily.

"Excellent," I said to Glorfindel. "Now we just need to think of the first names."

As Glorfindel and I lapsed into a ponderous silence, Elrond and Celebrían cackled quietly to themselves.

Similar, albeit much easier conversations followed with Gil-Galad, Erestor, and Bregedúr, who all gave the green light on using their names (or Gildor, as the case was with Gil-Galad and Erestor). We still found ourselves short of a second middle name for infant number two, though, and that predicament seemed to follow us right up until the evening our progeny decided to make their great escape. In fact, up to that point, we were still short of a first name for the both of them, too.

I honestly had no idea how messy childbirth was, but I saw it for myself that stiflingly humid evening as my lower half opened up and released these two kids from inside of me. Shuddering to think of the cleanup for whoever had to deal with it, I contented myself with chatting with Glorfindel and looking out the window while we waited for Baby One to emerge. I'd only been glancing outside five minutes when thick clouds seemed to come out of nowhere, and as the first baby turned up, there was a sudden cloudburst. Well, that certainly explained the mugginess in the air. I'd never seen or heard anything like it. The rain came in a torrent so loud that it drowned out almost all other sounds, which would have been terrifically useful if the baby had been screaming, but it wasn't. Don't mistake me, the child was totally bewildered (completely fair, given the rude eviction that had been happening), but was otherwise perfectly calm as Glorfindel picked him up and lay down beside me with him between us. I was taken aback by how much he reminded me of myself as his little eyes, silvery like mine, were glued to the window watching the rain pelt down. He seemed to be using all of his attention to process this impressive weather event.

"Tauros," Glorfindel murmured as he gently brushed the baby's slimy cheek with the back of his finger. He looked over at me. "What do you think?"

"'Mighty rain.' I like it," I said with a huge smile that was interrupted as Baby Two proceeded to march its way out.

Leaving me to snuggle up the elder twin, Glorfindel dashed back to the business end, and just in the nick of time, it seemed. His eyes were wide with surprise as the younger twin slid neatly into his hands, her arms and legs going like she was getting ready to scale a mountain. Even as he picked her up, she was already moving about like she wanted to make her way up his arm, cooing delightedly.

"And Taureth, I think," Glorfindel declared with a thrilled laugh as he returned back to my side. "Don't you agree?"

"'Mighty climber.' That sounds about right," I chuckled. "Already taking after you, I see."

A lot more mess ensued before the entire process was over, and I initially was too exhausted to pull my constipated face and patch myself up. Glorfindel lay beside me, each with a twin on us, and I fell asleep for about an hour. When I woke up, though still fairly tired, I was at least able to heal up now. One bath later, and the four of us would be ready for presenting.

I couldn't believe what a difference washing and drying made. The twins were smooth and pale now, instead of looking like they'd just swam in a pool full of tinned spaghetti. Unlike Tauros, Taureth had Glorfindel's sparkling blue eyes, but both had an abundance of the same hair: cool, dark brown like mine at the roots that grew to golden blonde like Glorfindel's at the ends. I silently hoped that my younger sister Charlotte, the family's beauty therapist, was watching very closely, as I knew she would be spitting with envy. I couldn't count the number of times she had complained to me (who knew nothing about hairdressing) about the fortune she had to spend on balayage for her hair, and here these kids were getting it for free.

A small pang of sadness hit me as Glorfindel and I manoeuvred these little bright-eyed, bushy-tailed individuals into their clothes. I realised that when we left our quarters to where everyone else was waiting anxiously, my parents and siblings wouldn't be there to greet us. Sure as I was that they had seen everything, it felt hideously cruel to not be able to share such this chapter with them. My mother and father had been overjoyed grandparents to Flora and Rhys' children, and my siblings all loved kids, always keen to be the uncle or aunt, even if the child was of no relation to them.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and saw Glorfindel watching me tenderly.

"I know it hurts," he murmured as he wiped a tear off my cheek with his thumb.

"We'll see them soon," I replied with a deep breath. "Just not soon enough." I put my arm around him as we looked proudly at these two soft, pointy-eared, now finally dressed infants of ours. "My, haven't we done well, though?"

"Outstandingly," he said happily, his voice breaking a tiny bit. All that baby fever must have come to a head now that we had not one, but two of our own. As he watched them with unreserved adoration, I had a sneaking feeling that of the two of us, he was going to have the harder time saying no to the requests of 'one more story,' 'one more scoop of ice cream,' and 'Ada, can we bring the lizard inside and keep it as a pet?'

I was getting ahead of myself now. With a small chuckle, I kissed the palm of his hand. "Let the good times roll," I smiled. "Shall we go and show them off?"

"Oh, yes," he agreed as he beamed at me wetly.

When we opened the door, we saw that the entrance to our chambers looked like it had been turned into a hospital waiting room. Glorfindel's parents had been jittering on the spot, we were later told, for the entire two hours that this had gone on. Elrond had nearly paced a track in the floor, Celebrían and Bregedúr were shooting the breeze quite calmly, and Erestor and Gil-Galad had been watching the door most of the time.

They looked up at us like deer in the headlights, eyes fixed on what we were carrying in our arms.

"Introducing Tauros Celebrond Gildor," I announced jovially as I strolled over, angling him so that they could see his face.

"And Taureth Bregedúr…" Glorfindel began before pausing as he followed me over. "Ah… the second middle name remains a mystery." He looked at me. "Are we taking suggestions?"

"God, yes. Please, someone recommend a second middle name for our daughter," I politely entreated the room as I passed Tauros to Gil-Galad and Erestor.

Silence fell in the room as people started to rack their brains. Nobody seemed to know what to suggest.

Nobody, that is, until Glorfindel passed her to Elrond and Celebrían. The kid seemed to have inherited her father's effortless charm, and it was very clear that she had full command over it, the two of them wrapped around her finger already as she fixed her piercing blue eyes on them.

"Can we give a name as a gift?" Celebrían asked weakly as she put her arms around Elrond, who was cradling Taureth in his arms

Glorfindel and I nodded. "Oh yes, of course."

She and Elrond shared a glance and then a nod. Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath as they strained their ears, almost afraid to miss hearing it.

"Arwen," Elrond said softly. Celebrían's arms tightened around him, and the two of them slowly looked up at us.

We were touched.

"That is… perfect," Glorfindel breathed. I smiled at them from ear to ear.

"Taureth Bregedúr Arwen, everybody," I declared, gesturing at said infant.

With the names finally given, the room immediately started to fill with the noise of excited chatter, gentle singing, and the occasional happy gurgle from Taureth the jumping bean.

Thus began an evening of all of us playing a round of hot potato, except the potatoes were babies, not especially hot, and most importantly of all, nobody threw the babies when they went to pass them to someone else to hold.


	90. Sleep and socialising for beginners

Author's note: IMPORTANT MEDICAL DISCLAIMER FIRST: Elf/Maia children do not develop in the same way as human children do! Those who have had much to do with babies or that general field of research will already know this a few lines into the story, as these kids are all over the place development-wise. Said folks will also know that it would be incredibly unsafe for Rhodri and Glorfindel to handle, say, Éowyn and Faramir's kids the way they do their own in this fanfiction. Always go with reliable research when it comes to safely handling, feeding, and sleeping infants!

Yeah, so this chapter is fluff. Fluff, fluff, fluff. Hardly a hint of substance to it, but Rhodri and Glorfindel are entitled to parental leave!

Anyway, you bunch are a scream! I loved your comments and they had me laughing like a wild thing! But just to clear up any misunderstanding, Celebrond and co. were always middle names only. Tauros and Taureth as first names have been in the works for at least 20 chapters. Don't sweat it, the middle names won't be resurfacing again. ;) It was purely for the symbolic nature of it. I mentioned in another comment last chapter that those middle names were essentially two private names each that were a gesture of goodwill and love from Rhodri and Glorfindel to the Bib-and-Brace Club members. But where are you bunch from that middle names are unique? That's cool as hell. In my experience, middle names have _allllways_ been giving someone else's name to remember someone who's died or to honour someone who's living. It's never done for the kid haha! :P For the names themselves, I didn't have much to work with, unfortunately (like what do you do when Gil-Galad's Sindarin name is Rodnor? lordy), and I made the ugly choice of a portmanteau name over giving the poor things middle names of married couples- and yes, the kids absolutely had to have honorary middle names. For the friends. They've been propping up Rhodri and Glorfindel for 90 chapters! There was no happy way to resolve it that met all the criteria :P But yes, I promise to stick to my word and not trot the whole names out all the time. Is that an okay peace offering?

I just want to add, though, because your reactions have been so huuuugely entertaining, that I'm thinking of putting a Celebrond in my next fanfic just to be cheeky. :D I maintain that it is a legit name when you look past the tacky mashed element!

As another aside altogether, just to share a random thought with you: it occurred to me today what kind of hilarity would ensue if the Golden Girls ended up in Middle-Earth. I swear, if I ever figure out how to write it, I'll publish it one day. Suggestions welcome from anyone who is like-minded.

§

Much in all as I loathe departures into the sentimental side of things, these kids had Glorfindel and me hook, line, and sinker. Holy cow, were we smitten with them. They were quite simply the most enchanting little creatures we'd ever laid eyes on, and there was seldom a moment where any of the four of us were apart in the first few months.

Luckily for us, Tauros and Taureth seemed not to mind having their dopey parents consistently basking in their glory, and in fact revealed themselves to be quite social and adventurous very early on. This translated to a lot of outings to the beach with the grandparents, uncles, and aunts, all of whom were similarly bewitched by the charm these unripe little humanoids seemed to ooze.

Not only was it a joy to be around them, it was also extremely interesting. Despite the fact that I'd only really spent a fraction of my life around human children, I still managed to be constantly amazed by the way immortal children's developmental milestones worked.

On top of that, Glorfindel and I were, in a way, entering into uncharted- or at least very minimally charted territory with these two sprouts of ours. Perhaps, given their half-Maia genetics, they would not follow the same course of development as their little full-Elven peers. There wasn't really anyone we could ask about it; the only people who had been in the same boat were Melian the Maia and her Elven husband Thingol, and their one child Lúthien was essentially famous for her death. It would have been more than a little awkward to front up to them, wherever they were, and quiz them on what we could expect for our own offspring.

Luckily, this was not the first time I'd been chucked into an experimental situation, so I felt pretty ready for an adventure.

We weren't disappointed. Within a month, we started getting hints of what we could expect for them later on in life.

For a start, we discovered one Maia trait inherited from Mummy dearest in the first days: the kids never slept. We found this out the hard way. Not because they wouldn't stop howling. They were actually cheerful as all-get-out. No, Glorfindel had been trying to stay awake until they dozed off so that he could sleep without worrying… but they never did. They seemed to have a boundless reserve of energy, which meant that soon enough, Glorfindel was absolutely run ragged.

"I think you might just need to lie down and get some sleep," I said to him by the fourth night he had gone without shut-eye.

"But… but they'll still be awake…" he said sadly as he gently combed Taureth's hair with his fingers. She gurgled cheerfully, showing absolutely no sign of tiredness at all as she tried to grab at his hand.

"I'm quite sure that if they haven't had the need to sleep yet, they'll _always _be awake, beloved," I replied, putting an arm around Glorfindel as I gently tickled Tauron's belly. "The only way they're going to sleep at this point is if they're taught to do it."

Glorfindel looked almost comically upset, clearly thinking that he was about to kiss slumber goodbye forever.

"You need rest," I said firmly, certain that no small part of this was down to his sleep deprivation. "Otherwise you're going to wear yourself right down. It's not worth it. Besides, this could lead to a very pleasant ritual of a night."

Glorfindel looked at me in confusion.

"You'll see in a minute," I smiled and gave him an affectionate squeeze.

"Come on, kiddlywinks, let's go and put Ada to bed," I announced to the progeny. They probably didn't understand all of that, but seemed happy enough that something was about to happen. They'd already started picking up patterns in their environment, and as I went to pick them up, they had lifted their arms up in anticipation. I was both impressed and overwhelmed with the cuteness of it all as these four fat little limbs hovered in the air excitedly.

"I used to be a famous warrior," Glorfindel murmured blankly as he was frog-marched by me and the kids to our bedroom.

"You still are, and now you're also a famous parent who needs to sleep once in a while," I returned as I sent him inside the room. "Besides, it'll be fun. Go and put your nightshirt on and we'll meet you in bed in a moment."

While Glorfindel changed, the three of us swept off to the playroom, where we prowled the bookshelves for something to read. It had been a long time since there had been any children in Alqualondë, so a lot of the toys, books, and furniture for Taureth and Tauros had been made by us, the grandparents, and the Bib-and-Brace Club. I took out a book that Elrond and Celebrían had written and illustrated called _Borgil and Moth_ and held it up for the approval of the neonate judging panel.

"What do you think? Will this do for tonight's entertainment?"

Cue a couple of gurgles and two squashy arms reaching out for the cats depicted on the front cover.

"I'll take that as a yes. I'll grab something a little longer as well, I think…" I reached out and grabbed a short novel I'd written for them about the adventures of a small spider who lived on a leaf. They seemed interested in the picture of the fuzzy arthropod as well, so that was that.

When we arrived back in the bedroom, Glorfindel was sitting upright in his nightshirt on the side of the bed, slumped over just a little. His shoulders were rising and falling so slowly that I knew he'd started to drop off.

"Hello there," I said mildly, rubbing his shoulder with one of the books. "Ready for bed?"

He stirred and gave me a drowsy smile, nodding his head as he took the books out of my hands.

As Glorfindel lay back, I walked around the other side of the bed and lowered the kids and myself down until I was reclining as well.

"Here, I'll swap you," I said as I passed Tauros to him, taking _Borgil and Moth_ out of his hand. Glorfindel lay Tauros on his chest and shifted himself until his own head lay beside Taureth's on my chest. In this surprisingly comfortable arrangement we stayed, all looking forward to the book as I started to read aloud.

About five pages in, Glorfindel was out like a light, and by the end of the book, the sprouts had noticed their father was uncharacteristically quiet.

"He's asleep," I murmured to them. Their eyes only darted to me for a moment before they returned to watching him curiously.

Taureth, already cementing her reputation as the instigator twin, reached out to try and pry Glorfindel's eye open, but I gently grabbed her hand and turned her to face me.

"It's sleep. Ready?" I closed my eyes, and moments later, this child's fingers were in my eyes, forcing them open.

Tauros, now having observed enough to want to participate, stuck his arms out as well, his plump little fingers wiggling as he stretched out to have his turn in rearranging my face. I leaned over to him and closed my eyes.

Children being natural mimics, they shut their eyes as well, but then they opened them again, finding themselves still awake.

They were both fascinated enough, but they didn't quite get it. How would they, when it didn't come naturally to them?

I sat there wondering to myself how I could actually explain it to them and caught myself considering the possibility of just planting the concept in their minds. Could I just hop into their heads and drop the idea? It was hardly unethical when there was no better means of communicating, I decided, and so I went ahead and gave it a shot.

After showing each of them a couple of memories I had of falling asleep, they seemed to get the picture and, as people do when they learn a new skill, they tried it out.

Glorfindel awoke a few hours later to find Tauros and Taureth both out of it, and then to see me reading my spider novel for about the fourth time.

"How did they fall asleep?" he whispered to me. "I thought they had to learn how to sleep."

"They did. We taught them," I replied before explaining what had gone on while he was in dreamland.

"Good to know, I suppose," he acknowledged, seeming to be as unsure of what to say about it as I was. We both shrugged.

Not long after this, we learned something else about them: Maia children were not as biddable as full Elven ones. This became rapidly apparent as Tauros and Taureth used their newly-acquired skill of falling asleep to their full advantage. Within a few weeks, they had put two and two together, realising that when a person was asleep, they weren't to be disturbed.

You see where this is going. If there was something they didn't feel like doing, they would summon sleep and be out like a light. Sick of eating? Nap. Not in the mood for washing their hands? Zzz. They liked their agency, and they wanted it there and then.

"They didn't get that from me," Glorfindel remarked to me pointedly as these two little rapscallions sank onto the floor in a dozy heap. The occasion? Glorfindel had announced it was time to put on shoes.

I had half a mind to go and lie down beside them until this all passed and caught myself silently apologising to my parents for any trouble I might have put them through at this age.

The others were of no help. They all thought this was extremely funny, and a fad quickly spread through the household where people would suddenly feign a coma to get out of doing whatever they didn't feel like doing. Sitting, standing, swimming, whatever. They just dropped. All those years of immaturity from Glorfindel and me had finally come home to roost, it seemed.

Fortunately, the phase of playing possum made an exit once the kids realised that you had to be awake to do the things you _wanted_ to do, and as the months passed and their list of hobbies expanded rapidly to include things like running and talking, sleep was back in the enemy corner again.

Possibly the most exciting thing was to see how their personalities started to turn out, and working out who inherited what from whom.

Taureth, true to my guess at birth, was so much like Glorfindel, boasting similar levels of his inherently winning disposition that radiated warmth and happiness. Only tough-as-nails Aunt Bregedúr was able to resist her charm, but it didn't bother Taureth because Aunt Bregedúr had promised to teach her to fight when she got older. That alone had secured her a permanent top spot in our adrenaline junkie daughter's good books. It seemed like the only things Taureth had inherited from me were my smile, which I was told was uncannily similar when she was getting a mischievous idea, and that she was of a slightly more detached nature.

Tauros, on the other hand, was nearly a replica of me, with his incredibly relatable awkwardness and proclivity for clownish antics. A tad shy, but loved company and especially enjoyed asking questions when he wasn't daydreaming about something or planning an adventure. Tauros had Glorfindel's tender heart, though, and it was endearing watching him think up ways to make his sister smile or laugh.

Seeing a couple of mini-mes (rapidly) grow and develop finally gave both of us a taste of what it was like to be around us. When the twins' first birthday rolled around, they were well in the habit of asking questions as they started to build an understanding of the world around them.

"Ada, what's wrong with Uncle Bilbo?" Tauros asked Glorfindel loudly at his second conception day party. He took one hand off his slice of bee sting cake and pointed a crumbed finger at said Hobbit, who had fallen asleep in his chair under the window.

Glorfindel blinked in confusion. "Nothing, I don't think," he said blankly, glancing at the slumbering antiquity. "He's just asleep."

"Then why does he look like the tomatoes Mummy leaves out in the sunshine?"

Glorfindel's and my mouths fell open and the entire party went silent as everyone bit down on their lips. I could have sworn I could hear a tiny collective wheeze as their eyes flicked between Tauros and me. Mercifully, Bilbo had been asleep through that exchange, but that was changed when Taureth pushed his chair off to the side, out of the patch of sunlight he had been snoozing under.

"Quick, help me!" she shouted to her brother. "He'll only get worse if we leave him here!"

"Oh, Christ," I squeaked into the hand that was clapped over my mouth. Tiny snorts started escaping people now as they pretended to busy themselves with something, anything.

Bilbo awoke with a snuffle to find two tiny children shifting him into a shady patch by the bookshelf. With a glance at the bookshelf, he laughed and said, "Ah, I know what you two want!" His eyes twinkled as he launched into an enthralling story about his encounter with the trolls.

The crisis averted, I cast my wide eyes around the room, silently beseeching the partygoers to keep schtum. Bless them, they did. It looked like the twins weren't the only ones doing a lot of learning.


	91. Of fake marble and the real self

**Author's note: ** CW: su*cide mention, doesn't go into detail. Be careful and gentle with yourselves! You're so very important. Have some water.

Hey cool cats, just a heads-up as Rhodri starts to settle down a little into a relatively normal life: I'll be posting a little less frequently with her antics now. I imagine I'll get a few chapters out each week, but I've started that other fanfic I was talking about with the lawyer. It's called _Sins of the Father_ if you're interested. Rated M as well. First three chapters are up!

I intend to always keep _Pathology_ open, because I don't think there's ever going to be an end to the stuff that Rhodri deals with. That, and I've become so attached to her and the world I've made for her that to make an end for it would render it finite. I can't bear to say goodbye, is what I suppose I'm saying. :P But at the same time, Áine is ready to come out and get a taste of things.

§

Things in life really fell into place beautifully, I have to say. Olwë ended up being so pleased with how Alqualondë turned out that he never went back to Tirion. That meant that the committee that had been formed was no longer needed, and we had entered a most blissful period of inactivity.

Well, no, actually. That's an out-and-out lie. There was no such thing as inactivity with twin two-and-a-half-year-old children. Especially not these two. Tauros, and Taureth especially, were zippy. I was in a constant state of disbelief that such small, unripe organisms could move so quickly. You could sit them in their seat for lunch, turn your back for three seconds, and they would be in the next room by the time you looked around again.

"Is this what Glorfindel was like as a child?" I asked his parents one morning during breakfast as I bolted after Taureth, who was making a break for the door out toward the beach.

Gloredhel and Galwen laughed loudly.

"Gotcha, you cheeky little monkey," I said as I snapped up Taureth, who started doing that screamy laugh that small children are so apt to do when they're in a good mood. Tauros, not wanting to miss out on the fun, ran over to me and held his arms up.

"You want a ride back, too, huh?" I laughed, scooping him up in my free arm and walking with my two giggling hellraisers back to Glorfindel and his folks.

"To answer your question," Gloredhel said with a grin as he gestured at his offspring, "Glorfindel was exactly like them, though perhaps a little more of Taureth. Boundless energy, constantly smiling, noisy as a bird, and quick as a fox."

Taureth, very pleased with the description, laughed wildly as I handed her back to her father to keep feeding her. Tauros, mildly suspicious, nestled into me and contemplated that remark.

All in all, things were proceeding as planned. The children were now old enough that they didn't need both parents supervising them all the time, which paved the way for me to reopen the clinic after a year of keeping it closed. I'd decided to start easy- a couple of hours for two days a week, and things would scale up a little as they got older.

My first day back on the job was scheduled to start once we had persuaded them to finish their breakfast. After fifteen minutes of gentle encouragement, they had both eaten a reasonable amount, and so I left and strolled up to my office.

The morning had started out wonderfully. I wasn't even sure what season it was any more, since it was perennially warm and green, but I knew it was the kind of weather I liked: warm and sunny with a smattering of fluffy clouds. If the conditions held up, I could easily foresee a quick dip in the ocean before dinner time.

Feeling on top of the world, I started whistling to myself cheerfully (Caranthir hadn't been given any pardon as yet, so I could whistle as much as I pleased in his absence). Naturally, when one is tweetling a tune as catchy as _The Girl From Ipanema,_ one does not watch where one is going. Luckily, though, someone else often is, and it was the noise from this someone else that snapped me back into what I was doing.

"Rhodri, were you not going to reopen the clinic today?"

I skidded to a stop and when I looked around, I realised I'd walked right past my office. Elrond was standing there, arms folded and smirking at me.

"Ah… well, yes. I just… had a need to look at this… statue. This one over here," I pointed weakly at a statue of some noble Elf lady a few feet away and went over to it. I squatted down and looked at it, racking my brains for something clever to say about it.

"What do you need to look at it for? You go past it all the time," Elrond raised an eyebrow at me.

"Just checking it's made of proper marble," I murmured quietly.

"... Proper marble?" Elrond echoed cynically.

I paused. I had no idea what I was talking about, and there was no way I was getting out of this without looking like a fool. Knowing I would kick myself for this later, I licked my finger a little, swabbed it over the statue, and then put it in my mouth, much to Elrond's abject horror.

"Mmm… tastes like the genuine article," I said, trying to sound like I was the leading authority on detecting counterfeit marble by taste. I smacked my lips a little in the hopes that I looked more convincing, and also to conceal the nasty taste of dust and salt I'd just given myself.

Elrond just stood there, saying nothing as he blinked at me in his thoroughly appalled state.

"Anyway, ah, my office is over there…" I mumbled as I pointed at the room behind him. I rose to my feet and walked over, opening the door and going inside. I dropped my backpack by my desk, and when I sat in my chair, I looked up to see that Elrond was standing at the doorway to my office, looking in at me.

Now it was my turn to blink. He still hadn't spoken by this point, and I was wondering what on earth was going on.

"Had you meant to come into my office, Elrond?" I asked him in mild confusion.

"I had, yes," he replied, slipping into his usual matter-of-fact tone again now. "Only if you're free, of course."

"Ah, good, just checking," I said, relieved to have re-entered some sort of normalcy again after that frightfully awkward moment before. Inviting him in, I poured him a glass of water and then one for myself. "So, are you here on business or pleasure?"

"Well, certainly not pleasure," he uttered ruefully. "But business? Well, I no longer oversee a settlement now, so I do not suppose it is in that realm, either."

"Perhaps I should have expanded the options a little. Is there something on your mind?"

"Mm, there is," he replied, not offering anything more.

"Ah, going to be one of those conversations, huh?" I said with a knowing smile. "Okey dokey. Do we start with some yes or no questions, or would you prefer to give me a couple of keywords to expedite things?"

"I need to sign a piece of paper or something to that effect first, don't I?" he asked quietly.

I frowned. "A piece of paper? I don't quite foll-" And then it dawned on me. Was he talking about a confidentiality form? "Is- is it a psychologist you're looking to speak with, Elrond?"

"I think so, yes," he murmured into his lap.

I could scarcely believe my ears, and I had to expend quite some effort to keep my amazement under wraps as I produced the necessary documents and walked him through the spiel. He listened to what I had to say, but he seemed not to care much about what any of it meant for him. When he went to sign the confidentiality form without so much as speed reading through it, I stopped him.

"Elrond, you need to take a look at that form before you put your signature on it," I urged him. "Or at least let me go through it with you."

"Really, Rhodri, I don't see the point," Elrond said with a sigh. "I have run out of options now, so we might as well get on with it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I have tried to fix all of this myself. I have read countless books, pondered things from every angle I could possibly think of, and now I have even come to Valinor to seek healing, but it seems that even the Blessed Realm's magic only works to a certain extent."

"The fact that you have come to seek treatment even a little begrudgingly makes it even more important that you know your rights and my obligations to you," I said seriously. "I'm not here to facilitate your feeling disempowered. It's my job to turn that around, and knowledge is power. Let's have a quick read through together, and if the conditions seem agreeable to you, you can sign off on it, all right?"

With a sigh and a nod, Elrond accepted. Together, we went through the form and, seemingly satisfied, Elrond autographed it.

"Right," I said as I took the form and put it in the back of his folder. "So what's up?"

That simple question seemed to be like a knife to the heart for him. He winced a little and averted his gaze, lips sealed. I was about to ask a different question to get the ball rolling when he opened his mouth and uttered something I hadn't imagined I'd ever hear him say.

"I'm broken. Still."

The words shook me a lot harder than I could have anticipated. Elrond, so brilliant and wise, positively teeming with goodness and high ideals, able to read people like a book and could keep even the worst behaved people on the straight and narrow, speaking like that about himself! Everybody has some degree of insecurity about themselves, and though I had toyed with the idea it ran deep in him, I hadn't ever been forced to confront it until now.

I swallowed down a gasp and forced myself to keep an even tone. "Why do you think that you're broken?"

"What else could I be, Rhodri? I walk around on hallowed grounds now, and I am still in pain."

"That's not how Valinor works, Elrond," I said gently, shaking my head a little. "It _offers_ the chance of a full recovery if you put in the work to get there, but it's not something you'll automatically get by virtue of simply being here."

Elrond frowned at me quizzically.

"Think of it this way: if someone showed up to you with a knife in their chest, you wouldn't simply heal the wound around the knife and leave the thing jammed in there, would you?"

"… Well, no, I wouldn't," he replied.

"Why not?"

He raised an eyebrow at me, as though I were asking him to explain why one plus one made two. "Really, Rhodri?"

"Humour me and pretend I'm as foolish as I look," I inveigled him with a smile.

Elrond rolled his eyes a tad and sighed. "Why wouldn't I take it out? It doesn't belong there."

"And…?"

"What do you mean, _'and'?"_ He sounded a tad impatient now.

"What is the most obvious reason for removing a sharp foreign body from someone's chest?"

"Well, the knife can still do further damage even when the structures around it have heal—" he stopped and squinted at me. I could tell he knew I was right to ask such a facile question but had no desire to admit it.

"Mm, precisely," I said with a quick nod, not wanting to dwell on the matter. "So what do you know about the knife- or knives, as the case may be, in your chest?"

"I know that they're painful," he replied bitterly. "And they make me wonder things. Well, it started out with wondering things and then grew into guessing, and now I simply believe them."

"What sort of things were you wondering that you now believe?"

Elrond sank into himself a little and bit his lips together, seeming afraid to say it aloud. His eyes darted from my face down to my session notes, which except for the date and Elrond's name and birthdate were blank. Without a word, I passed him a piece of paper and my pen.

"You can write it down, if you think it will be easier that way."

He nodded. Steeling himself, he leaned forward over the desk, took the pen, and scratched out a few words before pushing the paper and pen back to me.

I picked the piece of paper up and looked at it. In his characteristic narrow, small handwriting said the words, _I am a bad person._

I looked up at Elrond, forcing my face to remain expressionless as I concealed the awful, shocked sadness that came with knowing my best friend thought so poorly of himself.

"Do you really believe that, Elrond?" I asked.

His face scrunched up a little. "I don't know what else it could be, Rhodri," he whispered. "You know how objective I can be. I have examined this from every angle, but all of them seem to direct me back to this."

"It's hard to be objective with the self," I said with a nod. "That you came to talk to me is a good sign, though. There must still be some part of you that thinks that's not the case."

"Not so much think, but hope," he corrected me. "Though the surer I become, the more the hope fades."

"In which case, let's get started. What in particular made you decide to start speaking to me in my professional capacity?"

"Guilt," he breathed, clutching the armrests on his chair.

"Tell me about it?"

"I must have so much wrong with me for so much to have gone wrong in life. Maybe I did bad things, knowingly or not. I do not know. But I feel…" he shuddered. _"Terrible_ for it. And I think now I am ready to hear the truth about myself. I trust you, and I have heard from others who have seen you that you provide objective insight. So I think it's time to put it to someone else's judgement."

"The clinic is not a court, Elrond, and I'm not a judge," I replied patiently. "My job is to identify clinically problematic ways of thinking, behaving, and feeling, and then provide ways to reshape those. That's where my scope of practice begins and ends."

Elrond's brows drew together, and concern flashed in his eyes.

"But what can I do?" he asked desperately.

"Well, if it's judgement you want, you could go to a number of the Valar—or any of the wiser Maiar, and ask them to give their verdict," I said with a shrug. "But I'll be frank with you here: even if they swore black and blue that you have been nothing but well-intentioned and are a good person through and through, I have my doubts that you would believe them."

His shoulders slumped at that and he looked away, not quite meeting my eyes now. I waved one hand a little to get his attention again.

"That doesn't mean I can't help, though," I continued. "In fact, not to blow my own trumpet, but I think I might be among the more qualified to be of assistance to you. You'll need to be ready to confront the source of your misinformation head-on, though, and keep yourself open to new information."

"You know that I'm like that already," Elrond said dryly. "It is a common complaint among our peers that I am too dispassionate."

"You don't seem to be when it comes to this particular matter, though, otherwise I'm quite sure it would have been resolved much earlier," I pointed out carefully. "Which is why you need to constantly remind yourself to be such as we progress through therapy."

A guilty half-smile tilted his mouth, and he nodded.

"Right."

"So when was the first time you started to doubt your goodness as a person?"

Elrond's expression softened. "Oh, I remember that day very well," he said ruefully. "I was thirteen at the time. It was just after the War of Wrath, when Maglor went after Maedhros."

I frowned a little. Elrond had told me that story before. Maglor, his foster father, had raised Elrond and Elros since he discovered the two of them playing in a cave. They were six then, and at thirteen, Maglor left them to go after his brother Maedhros, who wanted to steal those ridiculous Silmarils from the Valar. The whole thing was a disaster. Maedhros committed suicide over it, and Maglor never returned to his foster sons, instead spending the rest of his days (as far as I knew) as a perpetually dejected beachcomber. He had never mentioned feeling guilt over that incident, though, which made this a rather odd development.

"Did you think yourself a good, or at least neutral sort of person before that day?"

Elrond confirmed that he did.

"So what was it about that particular day that suddenly brought your stainlessness into question?"

"I should have stopped Maglor from going," he said softly, fixing his gaze on the bookcase to my left.

There was a moment's silence, and when it looked like Elrond wasn't going to volunteer any more information, I spoke.

"You were a _child,_ Elrond," I said gently.

"Does that really matter, Rhodri?" he returned. "I had a bad feeling that something terrible would happen to him, which ended up being correct because I didn't act on it."

"Do you think you were the only person in that entire equation who had a gut feeling this would go poorly?"

Elrond considered my question briefly before answering. "No, but perhaps I might have swayed him had I said something. Perhaps, for example, if I reminded him he had two children he would leave if he decided to follow Maedhros. And when I think on it, it seems that this weakness to act is what has overshadowed my adult life as well."

I could hardly believe my ears. _Weakness?_ From Elrond? He was anything _but_ weak. But I couldn't just interrupt the session and lecture him about that.

"Can you name a few other instances where you think you might have failed to act, as you put it?"

"Too many," he returned, his brow heavy now.

"The entire saga with the Ring weighs heavily on me… had I only not stopped Isildur, eschewed propriety for a brief moment at the precipice of Mount Doom…" he sighed. "Perhaps if I had insisted on an even bigger security detail for Celebrían, she might not have been waylaid at the Redhorn Pass. Or maybe I ought to have forced Arwen to leave for Valinor with us. A little pain now to save so much more later…"

Elrond trailed off, having become so stirred up that he looked like he was choking.

In my surprise at his coming to me, I had quite forgotten to refill my client's empty water glass, and I hastened to do it now, apologising as I passed the glass to him. He took it with an appreciative nod and drained half of it in one go, his gulps loud and hard.

The longer I knew the Elves, the less wise they seemed to me. The famed first children of Ilúvatar all too often saw the world in absolutes, despite the proclivity they seemed to have for encouraging other races to 'see the nuance' in situations. That same all-or-nothing thinking that had informed Galadriel's absurd work ethics had also furnished Elrond's automatic assumption of fault when things in his life went wrong. As vital as it is to recognise one's own part in shaping one's life, it is of equal importance to acknowledge that not everything is in one's control—something Elrond seemed not to have picked up as yet, despite his impressive age and reputation for fabulous wisdom.

"If I may, Elrond, I'd like to propose a direction for therapy—a goal for us to work toward, as it were," I said calmly when he looked capable of breathing unassisted again.

He gestured that I should go ahead and speak, and I continued.

"Knowing as much as I do about you personally, I am certain that you are not to blame for any of these, and I am inclined to believe that you have developed problems with self-esteem and a tendency to pass blame on yourself for things that are not really in your control."

Elrond frowned a little and laced his fingers together, resting them firmly against his lips as though he were trying to contain something. I wasn't sure if he was displeased with my words, or if he was thinking deeply at this point.

"What are you feeling right now?"

He looked up. "Hm? Oh. I don't know, really. A few things. Confusion, dissatisfaction… perhaps a little relief as well." He shrugged passively. "You were proposing a goal for therapy?"

"Yes. Only vague at the moment, as we are in the very initial stages, but I would like to work on building a healthy and realistic view of yourself and where your responsibilities, both in your own life and the lives of others, begin and end." I leaned back in my chair a little, tapping my thumbs together. "I'm afraid I don't have an exact timeframe to suggest, because these habits have become ingrained over millennia, but if you put in the work, I think we could start seeing results within the year."

Elrond's eyebrows rose a little.

"You seem surprised," I remarked as I noted the literature and assessment scales I'd have to find and dust off.

"You seem awfully confident in… everything you have said today, Rhodri," he replied softly.

I shrugged. "Why shouldn't I be? I know I'm right in the knowledge that you are a good person, and I've certainly had clients with more skewed perceptions of themselves than you, who experienced dramatic improvement through therapy. The only reason I might be wrong is if you are entering into this with no intention of putting any effort into it yourself. Do I have any grounds to suspect that might be the case?" I looked at him gravely now, and Elrond appeared to know this was not the time to give anything but a direct and honest answer.

He shook his head straight away. "Not at all."

I smiled, returning to my usual, slightly less serious professional demeanour. "Jolly good. Well, I'll need a day or two to put some assessment tools together before we can begin in earnest, so we'll make today a short session. Let's resume in, say, three days. I'll set you some homework in the interim that should keep you busy enough."

"Homework, you say?"

"Oh, yes. Most of the therapeutic work will be happening outside of this office as your mind starts to untangle itself. I'm only really here to ask some helpful questions to put you on the right track," I said mildly as I took out two blank pieces of paper and started drawing lines on them.

"This first exercise," I began as I drew three columns, "is to encourage you to take a very close look at your opinions of yourself."

At the top of the leftmost column, I put a plus sign. "In this section, I'd like you to write what qualities you like about yourself. In the middle column," I drew a minus sign at the head of it, "Put what you don't like about yourself." I put a question mark at the top of the right column now. "And this one is for things that are neither good nor bad- they can be interesting, or simply neutral. All right?"

He nodded and took the paper as I passed it to him.

"Now, this second exercise is to examine yourself, but from another angle, separating the self into what qualities you think you have that others know about, and what you think you have that others _don't_ know about." I drew a line through the middle of the page, splitting it into two. I labelled the top half Open, and the bottom half was called Hidden.

"There's an additional part to this if you decide to let others know that you are pursuing therapy," I added.

Elrond looked up from the first exercise expectantly.

"If you decide to do that, have them write qualities they can see in you in the top half," I flipped the piece of paper and split it with another line, putting Others open at the top. "In the bottom half they can put what qualities they think you have but haven't seen for themselves," I scribbled Others hidden at the head of the lower box.

"No pressure of course," I added quickly. "If you don't want to involve anybody else, that's perfectly fine. If you decide to keep it private, just drop the form off half an hour before next session and I'll fill those parts out so we have an example to go by, yeah?"

He nodded, not saying much as he looked at me with a very mixed expression.

I smiled reassuringly. "It's going to be hard work, and perhaps very confronting at times, but everyone I've ever treated for these issues said it was worth it."

Another nod, followed by an accepting sigh. "I'll—I'll do my best," he said apprehensively.

"I know you will."

"Thank you, Rhodri," he whispered.

"Always, Elrond. Now, remember to take your papers with you when you go, and I'll see you back here in three days. Same time?"

Elrond arched an eyebrow at me. "Now _you're_ reminding _me_ to do things? My goodness, you're practically another person entirely at work."

"Precisely the sort of impression I'm going for," I concurred happily. "Now, unless you have any questions, shall we call it a day?"

"No questions at all, everything is crystal clear," he replied. "I imagine I will see the Rhodri I usually know at dinner tonight." With that, Elrond smiled, stood up, and left.

Alone again, I proceeded to spend a good hour turning my office upside-down in the hunt for the self-esteem and locus of control questionnaires that would help me track Elrond's progress. If it went as planned, Elrond would obtain scores from the forms that would show me the extent of his problems with self-esteem and perception of control and responsibility. I could then have him fill out the same questionnaire every few months to see if the scores had changed, a sign that therapy was working.

After copying out a few blank forms by hand to keep in reserve, I glanced out the window. It was mid-afternoon now, and the weather looked positively blissful. Once I'd filed the papers away, I closed the clinic for the day and made my way back to one of the communal rooms in the house, where I had a feeling I'd find Glorfindel and the kids.

Sure enough, I found the three of them sitting in a circle with Glorfindel's parents in one of the lounge rooms, singing away happily. The sight was a splendid one, outdone only by Glorfindel catching sight of me, beaming, scooping the two of them up in his arms (the children, so we're clear, not his mother and father), and jogging over to me. His arms were around them loosely enough that they bounced up and down as he moved, squealing delightedly all the while.

"Aren't you three a sight for sore eyes," I murmured happily as Glorfindel passed Tauros and Taureth to me. "Shall we go to the beach for a little while?"

This suggestion was met with great enthusiasm from all concerned, and twenty minutes later, we had the sand between our toes and the warm water lapping at our knees. Glorfindel and I waded out a little, each holding a twin in our arms as we bounced gently in sync with the waves. While we were out there, I felt a curious mix of delighted contentedness and sharp, stinging sadness.

_"What is it, Rhodri?"_ came Glorfindel's gentle voice in my head.

I glanced up and saw him looking at me curiously, and then I looked down at Taureth, who was letting out a wild, ecstatic laugh every time she and I jumped with a wave.

_"I don't know how Elrond and Celebrían did it,"_ I replied, shaking my head a little.

He looked at me in confusion._ "Did what?"_

Trying not to wince, I snuggled Taureth a little closer to me and put a small kiss on her head. It pained me to even think of it.

_"Let Arwen go."_

Glorfindel seemed to freeze, and his eyes darted down to Tauros, who had been reaching out to try and catch a wave in his hands. He mirrored me, holding Tauros a tad tighter to his chest like a dragon guarding an egg.

_"I don't know either."_


	92. Who do you think you are?

** earthdragon:** Oh don't worry, there'll be stuff on Mum and Dad for Elrond. And that's not all. The poor bugger has more baggage than Dubai Airport. But have no fear, Rhodri's here! They've only been in Valinor some three years now, and while I don't want to give too much away about Elladan and Elrohir, my reason for them not travelling with Elrond and co. to Valinor was the same reason as what you said in an earlier comment. Whether they go on to Valinor or not later on remains to be seen. But yes, it's hell for both Elrond and Celebrían, the poor buggers.

** Thora:** I doubt it was ever used in a negative way. Not with the stories around Elrond and his lineage. Earendil was quite a spectacular character, really, and Elrond proves himself to be even more so (in my opinion, anyway). His being such an impressive person makes it hard to imagine anyone insulting Elrond in any way. Except, perhaps, when Rhodri gives him the finger for putting the kibosh on her plans. :P

** Ness:** I think it does both, in varying degrees that depend on whom the client is. Helping Elrond is tough on her, but because she knows him so well it helps _him_. I guess one out of two benefiting isn't so bad.

** Gwen**: Interesting thought, isn't it? Especially if you consider that there might be a lot of former inhabitants of their realms now living in Valinor who still answer to them as authority figures. As Elven society is somewhat hierarchical, I imagine they would still hold quite some extra sway as compared to the average joe there. That there's a high king suggests there might be some ruling they still do, and they all just answer to that one king. Leaves a lot of room for interpretation :D

** Bonnie**: Ah, these kids are a step into the unknown. The way I've worked it out is that they are essentially very small five-year-olds. They talk like them, they have the motor coordination, and can comprehend situations almost as well as that. What they're lacking (apart from size and five-year-old body development) is experience. So they're still very much in the phase of trying things out, boundary pushing, learning how to master impulse and see the value in sitting still and eating, the sort of things that you'd expect from someone who is just a tad too young for preschool.

§

The day of the follow-up session with Elrond rolled around quicker than I had expected. Granted, it had only been a couple of days, so it wasn't a long stretch to start with, but even so, it seemed like only a few minutes had passed.

Especially since I basically never slept these days. The offspring had officially declared sleep as Public Enemy No. 1, and I knew better than anyone that if someone had no need for slumber and didn't want it, the chances of dozing off were slightly less than zero.

Thankfully, though, they were quite an intuitive, empathetic pair, and were receptive to the sleep requirements of their father. They knew that his sleep time required calm and quiet on their part, and had come to look forward to the nightly ritual of 'taking Ada to bed.' That essentially entailed the four of us piling into the one bed, spending five minutes arranging ourselves until everyone was comfortable, and me reading the sprouts story after story while Glorfindel snoozed. I can honestly say I had not ever envisioned that sort of a routine cropping up in my life, but it was hugely enjoyable all the same.

Early on the morning I was scheduled to bumble out to the office and catch up with Elrond, long before Glorfindel was expected to rise, Tauros and Taureth launched into a session of 20 Questions with me. Well, _20 _questions is rather misleading. In much the same way as their father was inclined to do, the two of them asked questions in _multiples_ of 20, which was unfailingly entertaining, thought-provoking, and on occasion, a little sad.

"Mummy, why don't we sleep?" Tauros enquired in a whisper as he glanced over at his slumbering father.

I raised an eyebrow. "Because you don't want to," I replied quietly.

"Does Ada want to?" Taureth asked, surprised.

"I doubt that very much."

"Why does he, then?"

"Ada is an Elf. Their bodies need rest from time to time so they can get their energy back."

"What am I, Mummy?" came Taureth's next question, followed quickly by Tauros', "And me, too, Mummy! What am I?" Their voices grew a little louder now as they started to feed off each other's energetic curiosity.

I made a gentle, tiny gesture to remind them to speak a little more quietly, and they clapped their hands over their mouths in synchrony as they looked over at Glorfindel to see if they had disturbed him. He didn't stir.

"You both have some of Ada, and some of me. Some Elf, and some Maia," I explained softly, smiling a little. "Maiar don't need to sleep, and since that part of me went to you, neither do you."

They continued to watch their sleeping father in fascination as they digested this new information.

"Is your mummy a Maia, too?" Taureth murmured, not looking up from the subject of her observations.

"Nope."

"What about your ada?"

I shook my head. "No, not my ada, either."

Tauros squinted at me suspiciously. "Do you _really _have a mummy or an ada?"

I sighed inwardly. I often told the children stories about my parents and siblings to make sure they were somehow a part of their lives. It was easy enough, though, for those tales to seem fabricated when they hadn't seen hide nor hair of them in the entire time they'd been alive.

The newly-awakened grief aside, they were asking for what would require intense simplification of a story about how Maiar were made, and why my parents were so different from all that.

"I do indeed," I began slowly. "Your Nana and Grandad are humans. I was made by Ilúvatar and lived here with Tulkas, building up the world. But I had to go away for a while and Nana and Grandad looked after me while I was gone."

"They never visit," Taureth said sadly.

I winced. I should have very matter-of-factly discussed the current location of my family to them when I told stories about them, but I'd always put it off, fearing that all the questions that could follow would make it all sting too much. Children are clever, though, and I really ought to have known that if they didn't ask the questions then, they'd come later.

"They'd love to, believe me," I replied softly. "Right now, though, they live a very long way away. Too far to travel to right now, but there will come a time when we can be with them. They can see you right now, though, and they love you very much." I smiled.

The children did not. This answer was not satisfactory in the least.

"They can see us, but we can't see them," Taureth grumbled. "It's not fair." Tauros nodded, frowning and folding his arms.

"I'd like things to be different, too, don't you worry," I agreed, wry amusement puncturing the miserable balloon that had been inflating in my chest. "Now, I need you both to direct your attention to this book that I'm holding, because it won't read itself, now, will it?"

Glorfindel rose a little earlier that morning, and thus followed the usual routine of dressing and foddering the twins. We were delayed a little because Taureth the trailblazer informed us that she would be dressing herself without any assistance which, of course, the elder sibling insisted on as well. It went as well as expected on a first attempt. Had the emergency services existed, I'd have rung the fire department to have the children cut out of their clothes. To this day, I have no idea how they both managed to get their legs stuck in the arm sleeves, and I was quite sure their roars of frustration as Glorfindel and I rectified the situation could be heard by every other resident in the house.

That seemed to subdue them a little, though, and it was remarkably easy to persuade them to eat breakfast- a boon since I was afraid I would be late for Elrond on the off-chance he showed up early for me to fill out my part of his homework.

Waving goodbye to the three of them, I strode out of the dining hall and off to the clinic, trying to slip into my professional demeanour before Elrond saw me. Sure enough, he was waiting outside the office and greeted me with a wry smile.

"My, my, Rhodri, you look incredibly calm given the sorts of noises I heard coming from your quarters this morning."

I smiled remorsefully. "Ah, well, I suppose it was only a matter of time before the children got trapped in their own clothing and had to be freed by Glorfindel and me."

Elrond's eyes twinkled a little. "They only get more entertaining with time," he said as he chuckled quietly.

"I'm not sure if that's a threat or a promise," I murmured as I unlocked the door. "Now, what about that homework? Are you here early to drop that form off for me to fill out, or are you just keen to get started?"

"I ended up telling Celebrían about it, so she has contributed, but I would rather keep it between the three of us, if possible. Would you be able to write on it as well?"

"Yes on both counts," I said with a nod, taking the piece of paper as he held it out for me to take. "Give me about ten minutes to set the clinic up and fill it out, and then come in, all right?"

Elrond nodded and set off down the hall, strolling gently.

I closed the door behind me and took out Elrond's file before sitting down and pulling out a small scrap piece of paper. I didn't want to see what Celebrían had written on Elrond's homework in case her answers influenced my choice of words.

It's a funny thing, trying to condense some four-and-a-half thousand years' worth of observations about someone into a handful of keywords. Had someone asked a thirty-two-year-old me to do the same for my neighbour Libby, it would have taken me a good twenty minutes, and I'd only known her four years. Where would I even start with Elrond, especially given my time frame?

I tapped my pen thoughtfully against the desk and decided to try and trick myself into thinking I only needed one word, which seemed to work.

First and foremost, I decided, he was kind. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for Elrond, and he dispensed it freely. There wasn't a person I knew with better intentions than him. Kind went at the top of the list.

"Patient, certainly," I murmured as I scribbled the word down, trying not to get shipwrecked on memories of the manifold instances in which the long-suffering Elrond had displayed great tolerance for my foibles, also great in number.

He was smart as hell, no question about it, so _clever_ went on the list without hesitation. _Trustworthy_ was another one that came to mind in short order, and however cold and logical he thought himself to be, I found I begged to differ. To my mind, Elrond had always shown great warmth and affection, particularly among his familiars. For a moment, I caught myself wondering if he simply struck me as warm because relative to robotic me, he was practically a furnace, or if he was genuinely an affable sort. I didn't care too much either way and added _warm_ to the list.

I decided to round it out to seven and chose _generous _and _brave_ as my final additions. Both were indisputable. The guy had courage I couldn't dream of. It wasn't the same sort of valour as Glorfindel had in fighting the Balrog, though I'm sure Elrond would at least have given it a crack if he absolutely had to. Inner resilience, though, that was very clear to see. Finding a way to force yourself out of bed every day after your daughter had bound herself to a mortal man, knowing you wouldn't see her again in this long, long life. And generous, well. A stingy person wouldn't open their home to a bedraggled stranger their scout had brought home. It was an obvious choice.

I took Elrond's paper out and started writing the words down in the box for me and Celebrían, taking care not to read what she had written as I put my own in. It felt awkward, somehow, reading them, even though I knew Elrond would show them to me in the session.

When I put my pen down, a timely knock came at the door.

"Impeccable timing, Elrond," I said as he came over and took his seat. I filled our glasses with water and with that, we got started.

"So how did you find the exercises I set you?" I asked as I passed him back the paper I'd written on.

"They were… well, certainly thought-provoking," he responded with a thoughtful look on his face. "Perhaps not as confronting as I had guessed they might be, but at the same time, they took longer to complete than I had anticipated."

I chuckled a little. "Yes, describing oneself can be a notoriously time-consuming task, can't it? Now, the task that I had set for you that involved Celebrían's and my participation was designed to show you the difference between how you see yourself, and how others see you. How much of a difference did you see between your responses and those of Celebrían and me?"

Elrond picked up the piece of paper and examined it, his brow wrinkled in deep concentration as he looked through his responses, and then as he flipped the paper over to read through the ones supplied by his wife and me, his expression softened.

"There is quite some contrast," he whispered hoarsely, placing it on the table and pushing it away a little.

I reached into my drawer and extracted a handkerchief, passing it to him. "Tell me a bit about what you wrote in that task."

Elrond dried his eyes and cleared his throat. "I tried to stay quite objective as I wrote. I wanted to be balanced and realistic, so I simply put whatever came to mind first."

Leaning over the desk, I scanned the paper for what he had put in the _Self Hidden_ box. There were about twenty different adjectives, most of which were negative. _Weak-willed. Boring. Panicky. Timid. Selfish. Cruel. _The words made my stomach turn. Only three were neutral: _logical, contemplative, cautious; _and two were positive: _industrious, _and _clever._

"Do you think you succeeded in being balanced in this review of yourself?" I asked as I sat back in my chair again.

He glanced down at the paper and then back up at me again. "Well, it is certainly accurate."

"Elrond," I said gently, "I didn't ask if you thought it was accurate. I want to know if you feel you genuinely made room for the good, bad, and interesting in equal measures in doing this task."

Elrond looked a little irritated. "Well, no, but life is not always balanced, Rhodri."

'No, it isn't, you're right," I acknowledged. "But you said yourself that the answers _you_ gave are rather different to the ones your lovely wife and I gave. Now, don't mistake me, the answers of three people will not be enough to allow for generalisations. However, you'll see a number of my answers line up with your spouse's, and all _two_ of your positive traits you've listed are backed up by us."

"I notice neither of you 'back up' many of my more critical traits," he remarked coolly.

"Likely because most of them don't apply in our eyes. Let me speak as the friend who filled this out and not the psychologist for a moment..." I picked up the list. "You're panicky, yes, that's true. Fussy, tick. You do get a tad snippy when you're in one of your moods, but it doesn't qualify you as cruel, so that's an exaggeration. And if I could list one that isn't on there, you can be a terrible killjoy when it comes to Glorfindel's and my sporting enterprises." I raised an eyebrow at him.

Elrond snorted a little and rolled his eyes. "Perhaps I have a dark side that you all don't know about."

My other eyebrow soared heavenward now.

"You seem to have forgotten you have absolutely no talent for lying, Elrond, and your kinfolk are very hard to dupe. Not to depart too much from my professional demeanour, but if you can provide proof of a 'dark side' we haven't seen before, I'll eat my hat."

"You don't have a hat," Elrond pointed out.

"I'll make one and eat it," I said smoothly. "Back to the topic at hand. How did your second homework task go?"

Without vocalising any answer, he took the second piece of paper out and put it on the table.

I picked it up and looked at it. Sure enough, there was a large selection of criticism, a reasonable number of 'interesting' traits (mostly related to his analytic skills and methodical nature), and a smattering of good things.

"How do you think the ratio of positive to negative to interesting looks here?" I enquired as I passed it back to him.

"The balance seems similar to how it was in the other exercise," Elrond murmured thoughtfully as he took another look at the columns.

"So you'd say the good is fairly consistently outweighed by the bad?"

"Mmm, I suppose so," he admitted.

"How do you feel when you look at these two exercises and you see the significant discrepancy between the traits we've listed and the ones you did? What comes to mind?"

"I feel that you're wrong."

"Despite what I just said about Elves not being able to dupe other Elves?"

"Indeed."

"So you don't feel that any of what you put on those pages was, perhaps, an exaggeration of any foibles you might have?"

"I am not usually one to view things in a disproportionate light, I don't think, Rhodri," Elrond shrugged.

"Not usually, no, but it's easy enough to do," I returned mildly. "I tell you what, let's take this from a very dispassionate, scientific approach."

Elrond regarded me curiously. "Dissecting the self scientifically?"

"As much as is possible," I said with a small smile. "Keeping in mind that each of these words you've chosen is a characteristic- something that is stable over time, not just a one-off- if you look in the negative column right now, could you provide concrete evidence for each of these?"

It went quiet as Elrond perused the paper carefully. The answer he gave would be significant in helping me to establish how treatment should proceed. If he asserted that he could, that suggested these traits were things he had considered carefully and genuinely believed to be accurate. That pointed to the likelihood that he had a skewed idea of how he behaved and how it affected other people- not impossible given the way he seemed to consider himself responsible for things like Arwen's mortality and Maglor ending up in trouble.

If, however, he wasn't able to back it up, it indicated he had insight because he would be able to realise that he had made a mistake. This was the better of the two options, because acquiring insight is half the battle, and if he was already there, it made it much easier for him.

Unfortunately, though, things had a way of not being especially easy for darling Elrond, and that much was made clear again when he looked up and nodded with casual confidence.

"Yes, I think I probably could." His face was inscrutable, and I didn't like that one bit.

"Very well. In which case, we're going to take a bit of a longer break between sessions this time around, because I'm going to set you quite a lot of homework."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'd like you to take all these negative words," I tapped the column with my pen, "and for each of them, please write a few lines on the proof you have. Describe how the proof is consistent over time, and to what extent you feel it affects you and others." I started to write the instructions on a scrap piece of paper.

"I see," Elrond murmured as he craned his neck and watched me as I worked. "Well, that is not as time-consuming as I had imagin-"

He stopped when I looked up and politely held up a hand to silence him.

"That's part one. Then I want you to wait a day or two and look over your answers again. This time, though, pretend that Glorfindel had done the things you regard as proof of those traits, and that he was the one who filled out the negatives column on that chart. When you've looked through all of them, I want you to write a paragraph or so outlining what you think of how Glorfindel sees himself."

I quickly scribbled out part two's instructions and handed the paper to Elrond.

"Is the session already over?" he asked in surprise, looking outside.

"Not quite yet," I replied. "Next session, I want for us to establish some clear treatment goals. Before we can do that, though, we need a complete picture of where you are now. So before we wrap up today, I would like you to fill out these two questionnaires. We'll get a score from your answers, and then use that to work out what to aim for." I passed him a test for locus of control, and another for self-esteem, and then handed him a pen.

As Elrond busied himself with those, I took out my chicken comic, now well into its ninth book, and kept working on it. I was surprised how much one little hen had gotten up to over the years. After that court case with the traffic lights, she'd climbed the government ranks to become Minister for Transport, and was now subject to intense media scrutiny after developing an unlikely friendship with a fox who ran the Department of Agriculture.

When Elrond was finished, he passed the questionnaires back, and we called it a day.

"Are you not coming out, too, Rhodri?" he asked as he stood up, folded his homework up, and put it in the pocket of his robes.

"I have to go over your scores first, but I plan on finishing quite soon," I replied as I accompanied him to the door.

"Well, don't delay too much, because I was told by Olwë this morning that we have guests arriving today."

"Oh? Who's showing up?" I rubbed my chin pensively. It couldn't have been Caranthir and some sort of entourage, could it?

"Finish your work and you'll find out," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "Come to the dining hall. I imagine that is where they'll come once they've presented themselves to Olwë."

Intrigued, I waved goodbye to Elrond and went back over to score his tests. Predictably enough, he scored low on the self-esteem test. The average healthy score was about 39 out of a total 60 points; Elrond had 29. Naturally, it's not healthy to be so full of yourself you think the sun shines out of your every orifice, as a score of over about 47 would be. At the other end of the spectrum, though, thinking yourself lower than an earthworm's belly button is a bad sign, too.

As for the locus of control questionnaire, that was divided into two sections: realistic and unrealistic. Realistic questions were what a person could reasonably take responsibility for, designed to show if someone had lower perception of control in their life. Elrond had done fine there, scoring top marks- 30 out of 30 points. Good start.

That wasn't where I had expected him to trip up, though. The unrealistic question section had a list of events that were not reasonable to assume personal responsibility for. Things like an outbreak of war, crop failure, or the happiness of others. Low scores suggested that the person was inclined to believe they were responsible for a lot of things that, in reality, were far out of their control. In that section, he did very poorly indeed. An acceptable score would have been anything over 25 out of 30; Elrond had a grand total of 6 points. That certainly lined up, considering the way he felt it his fault for things like Maglor running off to danger, and Celebrían being attacked the way she was.

I sighed as I put Elrond's questionnaires in his file and locked it away. There was a lot of work ahead of us, and my friend was in for a long, confronting ride the entire way.

Stepping out of my office, I glanced out over the balcony at the sea. It glimmered under the sun like a field of diamonds, and the gentle ocean breeze tickled my face a little. Then I remembered Elrond's instructions to hurry it up, and I scuttled off to the dining hall to see what he was being so intentionally vague about.

I could hear a lot of enthusiastic chatter coming from the lowest level. The excitement was building up in me now, too. A party was just what I needed after dissecting Elrond's bleeding heart. I called out as I turned the corner to enter the dining hall.

"Hellooo! Is there room for one more in the party? I- oh!" I was cut off as two small missiles hit my legs and nearly bowled me over.

"Well hi there, you two," I greeted the twins happily as I hoisted them up. "Have you been having a good time?"

They grinned and nodded, and before I could take another step further, Glorfindel strode over, smiling broadly as his blonde mane swished out behind him.

"_Goodness, I was only gone for an hour and a half, and in that time, you've doubled how gorgeous you are. I don't know how you do it,"_ I murmured over the neural telephone to him as I gave him a chaste kiss.

Glorfindel let out a delighted squeak that vibrated my lips, and when I moved my head away, I could see the hint of a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"So am I to understand something exciting is going on around here?" I enquired.

"_Aside from the fact that you just walked through the door?"_ Glorfindel replied, shooting me a wicked grin for a moment before he spoke. "Yes, there is. Come and see who's visiting."

The four of us went further into the dining hall, where a full lunch table was set and, aside from the usual diners, also featured the Elf-lords of Gondolin.

"Eyyy!" I exclaimed. "It's the party brigade!"

That wasn't an exaggeration. Those guys really knew how to have a good time, which I knew not only from the fun we'd had with them in Tirion, but also the multitude of happy evenings spent sparring (or watching, in my case), singing, and dancing while they'd been with us here last time.

They turned and looked up at me and hallooed back heartily.

"We've just had the pleasure of meeting these two charming individuals," Ecthelion said with a smile after the long exchange of greetings. He gestured at the children Glorfindel and I were holding as we sat at the table. "They do you both credit!" The others close by all nodded in agreement.

Taureth glowed at this. I doubted she knew what precisely a credit was as yet, but she knew it was good, and flashed Ecthelion a huge smile before triumphantly putting a piece of sweet potato in her mouth. Tauros had gotten quite shy of late, and being the child who was on my lap, turned around and hid his face in my robes.

"We certainly are very lucky," Glorfindel said cheerily, affectionately brushing Taureth's mop of hair out of her eyes with his fingers.

"Speaking of good luck, any chance of taking you up on that sparring offer while you're here, Rog?" I enquired as casually as I could while inside, I was debating whether or not I would theoretically be willing to trample every adult in the room for the opportunity to get my hands on one of those battle hammers.

"I was counting on it," he replied, a confident grin spreading over his face. "I even brought your hammer with me."

"Jolly good. Well, name a time and place and I'll be there."

"Today, after lunch, perhaps?" he said with a shrug.

"Most excellent." I glanced over at Glorfindel and raised my eyebrows delightedly. This bitch was getting a hammer.


	93. The trials of a silly, naughty man

I have a feeling that lunch was the fastest one I'd ever eaten, even with Tauros constantly trying to bat the cutlery away from my mouth. I had been waiting for that hammer for _years._ Oh, and the thrill of duelling with Valinor's strongest Elf, et cetera, et cetera. Lovely jubbly. But the _hammer!_ My god!

Luckily for me, Rog also appeared to be a fast eater. In fact, everyone seemed pretty keen to get their food into their belly, so it wasn't long before we had a congregation of some twenty onlookers as Rog and I stepped into the training yard, armed and ready for action.

Unlike Rog, however, I was most patently _not_ a serious, smouldering badass, and while he was standing there, hammer held up and a determined look on his face, I was hopping around like a sheep on ecstasy.

"Ooh, this is going to be fantastic!" I squeaked in delight. "Absolutely splendid! Ooh! Yes, indeed!"

"Rhodri, if you were any blither, you'd be Glorfindel," Celebrian called out to me while she bounced Tauros in her arms.

"To think we'd hoped he'd take a leaf out of _your_ book in that regard!" Elrond added, shaking his head a little before he turned to an offended Glorfindel, who stood there with his hands on his hips fixing Elrond with a snippy expression. "Oh, come, meldir, as if I hadn't told you this a thousand times before."

Glorfindel tutted loudly and turned his head away with a flourish, sending his hair bouncing.

I snorted and turned back to Rog, who had been watching all this with blank confusion.

"Don't mind Celebrian and Elrond," I said to him with a smile. "They wouldn't know a good time if it bit them on the nose, and it causes them to act a little strangely from time to time."

Ignoring the indignant protests from the aforementioned childminders, I gestured to Rog that we should proceed.

"Don't go easy on me," was all he said before we got started.

I would have liked to describe the fight that unfolded as full of surprises, the sort of match that had people on the edge of their seats, but the reality was that it was an unfair encounter from start to finish. A Maia against an Elf? No contest, even when the Elf in question was the strongest one of them all. What I hadn't anticipated was that my children would manage to even things out a little.

I had been happily dodging Rog's attacks, and he was trying harder and harder to land a blow against me, moving quicker and swiping with his hammer much more roughly. He was speedy as hell, and I know he could have easily smashed a boulder with that hammer, but I'm afraid that by accident of birth, I was the faster of us.

My curiosity got the better of me, though, and when I'd had enough of dodging, I held up my sword, deciding to see just what would happen if he landed a blow, and I shit you not, his hammer broke the blade of my sword in half upon contact. As in, it _snapped_ it. I stood there a moment, staring in disbelief at my wrecked sword.

"Impressive!" I said pleasantly as Rog gaped at me. "Keep coming, come on!"

Rog nodded, and when he was midway through bringing his hammer down in another swipe, enraged roars came from Tauros and Taureth.

"ADA, UNCLE ROG BROKE MUMMY'S SWORD!" Tauros shouted furiously.

"YOU'RE BEING A VERY SILLY, NAUGHTY MAN, UNCLE ROG!" Taureth admonished him from Elrond's arms.

Well, that had to be one of the funniest bollockings I'd ever heard in my life, and as Rog nearly connected the hit, I put one hand out, catching the hammer when it was a few centimetres away from me. He was pushing as hard as he could to follow the swing through and make the hammer tap some part of me, and I was trying, I promise I was trying to fight and be sensible. I bit my lip and tried to suppress the urge to laugh, but I was wheezing in this Elf's face as he was going red from the strain of trying to make that hammer contact me.

"I'm sorry," I squeaked before I totally lost it, doubling over and howling with laughter as I held him in place with one hand. My other hand was busy propping me up so I didn't sink to my knees. When I got it together, I looked up at him, and he was pushing into the hammer with his entire body, almost tearing up the grass under his feet as he dug in. Rog looked like he'd burst a blood vessel if he pushed any harder, so I decided to finish the match before something untoward happened. I held him steady at the shoulder with my free hand and slowly extracted the hammer from his grasp before tapping him gently with it.

"I certainly won't be fighting you with a sword again any time soon," I remarked with a smile as I handed his hammer back to him. "That was absolutely incredible."

Rog stared at me agape as he took his weapon back, his face red and covered in sweat. "You expended no effort at all."

"On the contrary," I replied. "I was absolutely not able to keep it together when my children lambasted you, and I just about herniated something trying not to laugh. We all have our own set of abilities."

He seemed dismayed all the same, so I clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Hey, I tell you what. Why don't you train with Tulkas and me one night while you're here, hmm? You can see how he flattens me and build on your own skills as well. Don't base your personal best on me."

That worked. His confident smile came back onto his face and he accepted the offer with alacrity.

All in all, things seemed to pan out beautifully. I went back to the house with a shiny new hammer that admittedly, I couldn't use to cut fruit, but would no doubt be useful all the same. Plus, the kids were proud of me that I won the match, which I admitted only to myself and Glorfindel was extremely gratifying. The teenage years where they knew better were coming faster than I wanted to think about.

Over dinner that evening, the conversation was jolly and noisy- precisely the way Glorfindel and I liked it, and the kids were in their element, too.

Taureth, the ultimate social butterfly, flitted from person to person along the table as easily as water flowed down a stream. She made energetic, charming remarks to whomever she thought was suitable to engage with, and toddled with the confidence of someone who had control over the entire room. I could see Glorfindel bursting with pride as he watched her, occasionally nudging me and informing me that he would do something like that as a child himself, the sentiment echoed by his parents not long after.

I caught myself making similar comments as I watched Tauros, my little clown, staying close to Elrond, Celebrian, Gil-Galad, and Erestor, making up jokes and ridiculous stories on the spot that had the uncles and aunties in stitches. The only shifting he would do was between their four laps, making scrupulously certain that everybody got equal time with him sitting on them. Well, that and joining his sister in occasionally visiting their abandoned mother and father to receive a mouthful of food.

The only person they both refused to engage with was Rog, with whom they were still extremely displeased for the crime of destruction of their mother's property. When Taureth made an obvious (everything she did was obvious) re-route of her mingling circuit, Rog having been the next in line to receive her, I saw Rog sit in quiet shock and put a hand over his mouth. He looked rather horrified that he might actually have done something to offend her, which was only magnified when Tauros, having watched his sister studiously avoid the silly naughty man from Erestor's lap, squared his jaw at Rog and frowned deeply at him.

A few minutes later, when I'd managed to pull myself together after a rather convulsive fit of laughter, I informed Glorfindel that we'd have to teach them about the rules of sparring, and that they were at liberty to forgive Rog.

In the interim, I hoped to set an example to them by being friendly with Rog, showing through actions that he and I were on perfectly good terms.

"So what brings you all out to Alqualonde, anyway? Were you seized by beach fever again?" I asked him with a smile.

"Oh, yes, that's right, you weren't here when we arrived, were you?" Rog murmured, the penny dropping.

"Goodness, yes, and to think we came here specifically to ask you about it!" Ecthelion exclaimed.

I blinked. Had demand for my clinical services come from all the way over in fancy-pants Tirion?

"Oh?"

"Indeed, yes, there has been a rather large exodus of Elves from Tirion recently, you see," Rog continued.

"An… exodus?" I repeated, racking my brains as I tried to work out what on earth I could possibly advise them on. Could it have been a cult? Were they all following one utter kook who was going to lead them from one promised land to another even more promised land?

"Mmm, a number of Noldorin Elves, in fact. They seem almost entirely to be made up of the exiles who partook in the Kinslayings," Rog clarified.

"I see," I murmured. "Did any of them happen to say where they were setting off to?"

"They did, in fact," Ecthelion nodded. "Formenos, they said."

Huh. Caranthir must've been very busy of late. I nodded. "Oh, right. Seems fair. And, ah, what's that bit got to do with me?"

"None of them explained why when asked," Rog said, looking at me curiously now. "They encouraged us to ask you."

A look of blistering disbelief came over my face before I could stop it. What was it with these Elves and trying to seem mysterious? There was Galadriel with her _come-hither-you-who-know-nothing-about-me_ looks, then the perennial challenge of extracting information out of a tight-lipped Elrond, and now Caranthir and co. were suddenly upping stumps en masse in front of everyone in Tirion-Upon-Bloody-Tuna and saying, "Go ask Rhodri why we're fucking off." Well, really. That's a bit rich for my tastes.

"Oh god, you bloody people," I whispered to myself as I rubbed my face in my hands. "You never do make it easy, do you?"

A shrill, thoroughly irate voice pierced the chatter as my darling daughter shrieked, "THAT MAN IS MAKING MUMMY CRY NOW!"

Oh, shit. I looked up in horror to see her marching over to him, looking ready to give him the dressing-down of a lifetime, the other twin hot on her heels as he scrambled out of Erestor's lap and bustled over behind her. Everyone had stopped talking and was watching this unfold with their eyes on stalks and huge, amused grins on their faces.

Alarmed, I got up quickly, scuttled over to them and said, "No, no! Look, see? I'm not crying. Uncle Rog has been very nice. We were just talking and I needed to rub my face for a moment." I crouched down to let them inspect my face. As predicted, they both put their fingers under my eyes to check for tears, inspected my nose, and even pinched my lips up into a smile. When they were satisfied that I was being truthful, they both fixed Rog with an impressive stinkeye.

"I want you to be nice to Mummy and not break her things," Taureth said to the Lord of the House of the Hammer of Wrath in a very stern, squeaky voice, her brother nodding along emphatically. The parroting phase had well and truly begun, I thought to myself, wondering how many times I'd gently instructed them like that.

"It's all right, that was an accident," I said rapidly, hoping to defuse this situation here and now. "I'll fix the sword next when we go on holiday to Tirion. And Uncle Rog gave Mummy that lovely new hammer, too. Wasn't that kind of him?"

"You should say you're sorry for breaking Mummy's nice sword," Tauros said to him. God, they weren't letting this go.

To my relief, Rog laughed. "You're absolutely right, Tauros," he said genially before looking at me. His eyes crinkled up at the sides, presumably because he could see signs of me obviously dying inside, and he said in a very calm, earnest tone, "I am very sorry, Rhodri, for breaking your nice sword. It was an accident and I didn't mean to do it. I will fix your sword for you as soon as I can, and I hope you can forgive me."

"_I am actively passing away from embarrassment," _I whispered to Glorfindel in my head. "_Please pour a glass of nectar on my grave now and then so I can still partake in Happy Hour."_

And the crowning turd of it all, Glorfindel started to scream with laughter.

But of course, this is the part of being a parent that is particularly difficult. You're the template for the child's behaviour, and if you slip up once, they'll never let you forget it. I couldn't just beg everybody to drop the subject before I dropped dead. Glorfindel would have to explain his laughter to our shrewd, perceptive children later, but at least I could save my skin now at the expense of what little dignity I had left.

"Thank you for saying you're sorry, Rog," I said in a calm, very clinical voice. "Your apology was thoughtful, sincere, and I appreciate that you offered to fix my sword for me. I accept."

The children, satisfied that reconciliation had been made, started to show the better side of forgiveness now as they pat Rog on the back.  
"There, now, Uncle Rog. That wasn't so bad, was it? You have to be gentle with people's things," Taureth said encouragingly.

"Everybody makes mistakes," Tauros chimed in. "Things will get better once you've finished your dinner."

Relieved that this was finally drawing to a close, I got up and made my way back to my seat on the other side of the table, where a smiling Glorfindel was wiping tears out of his eyes.

"_Are those tears a residue from your laughing fit?" _I asked with a grin.

"_Initially, yes, but look at them!" _Glorfindel gestured at the two children, who were now lavishing attention on the once-neglected Uncle Rog.

I chuckled, putting an arm around his waist and pulled him close to me. "_They're good little eggs, aren't they?"_

Glorfindel squeaked in confirmation as he watched them with a watery smile.

Our preposterously sentimental moment was interrupted by a gentle throat-clearing coming from Ecthelion. After that disastrous to-do with Feanor and co. all those millennia ago, it was perfectly fair that they'd all be anxious for an answer.

"Do, ah, do you know anything about any activity at Formenos, Rhodri?" he broached gently.

"Yes, I do," I replied, sitting up straight again but keeping my seat close to Glorfindel's. "I'm quite surprised none of you got any further details from your expatriates, actually, because so far as I know, nothing untoward is happening there."

Rog, now with a lap full of giggling kids, looked up sharply, partly relieved, partly curious. "What _is_ going on there?"

"Oh, well, there's a revitalisation effort going on, presumably led by Caranthir," I said.

"_Caranthir?"_ exclaimed Ecthelion. Turgon, who was sitting beside Ecthelion, looked furious.

"What business does a son of Feanor have in revitalising that place?" he demanded.

"The place where his family was banished to?" I asked as I raised an eyebrow. "Well, as I understand it, Caranthir's been itinerant since he left Mandos' halls," I suggested. "I suppose he wants a permanent domicile, and he knows better than to show up in somewhere like Tirion and hope to slot in without too much trouble."

"Could they be planning something?" asked Rog suspiciously, Tauros and Taureth ceasing their laughter and looking up at him.

"I doubt it. The last time I saw Caranthir, he was quite a reformed individual," I replied, skating over any mention of his therapy time. "He was here in Alqualonde for a short while, actually, and helped us to fix some of the buildings around the place." Glorfindel nodded.

Rog, Ecthelion, and Turgon all raised their eyebrows heavenward. They were impressed, but not entirely convinced.

"Of course, if you have any concerns, we can all venture over there together for a look, if you like. I'd be interested to know how things are going if people are all moving over there, and also why he decided to keep all this under his hat."

"You speak as though you know him very well," Turgon said, cocking his head a little.

"We got to talking a few times," I replied.

"Talking? With Caranthir?" Ecthelion said in surprise.

I shrugged. "He knows that I don't tolerate his temper, so he smartened up pretty quickly around me."

The three Elf-lords exchanged baffled glances but didn't ask any further.

"How about we set out in a few weeks, hmm?" I proposed before looking at the kids, whose eyes were wide with intrigue. "What do you say, sprouts? Do you fancy an adventure?"

They cheered with delight and clapped their hands, nodding so hard I thought their heads would fall off.

"Well, that's settled, then."

Though having children that never needed to sleep certainly required a lot more engagement from Glorfindel and me in the early stages, I must admit that that characteristic was most conducive to adult social life. No overtired kids or bedtimes we had to conform to on party nights, and you can be sure there was a terrific do that evening to celebrate the Gondolin Elf-lords' arrival. We were lavished with plenty of music and dancing that kept us all motoring until the early hours of the morning.

As the kiddywinks were swept onto the dance floor by Uncles Erestor and Gil-Galad, leaving Glorfindel's and my hands free, a curious tense feeling came over me, and when I glanced around, I saw Galadriel's eyes on me. She was fixing me with one of those brief but intense _I-am-a-woman-of-mystery-and-I'd-like-you-to-follow-me _looks that I recognised all too well from the evenings we'd chatted in her realm back in Middle-Earth. I blinked and watched her slip outside and into the corridor.

"Oh. I left my backpack in my office," I said to Glorfindel, which was perfectly true. I just hadn't planned to get it until tomorrow. "Back in a few minutes."

I took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as he smiled at me before strolling outside, the night air as pleasantly warm outside as it was indoors.

I saw that Galadriel was a handful of metres down the hall and I strode over until I was at her side.

"It's been a while, Galadriel," I said pleasantly. "Walk with me to my office?"

She nodded, not saying anything until we had ascended the staircase and were completely alone.

"The owls are busy this evening," she remarked, looking out over the balcony as a couple of barn owls soared in the star-bestrewn sky.

"Mm, that's very true," I agreed as I leaned on the balustrade near her. "Much as I enjoy a good round of birdwatching, though, I can't help but think that wasn't the reason you wanted to speak with me."

Galadriel's mouth turned up in a sphinxlike smile. "Not at all. Though I imagine there is very little time tonight to discuss what I would like with you."

"Is this something personal to me, or are you hoping to speak with a psychologist?" I asked.

"The latter."

"Right, well, would some time tomorrow suit? Or we can leave it for later, if you prefer," I went over to my office and opened the door.

"Tomorrow, ideally," she replied.

In the dark of my office, I raised my eyebrows a little. Something must have been quite pressing.

"If it's an emergency," I said as I swiped up my backpack and walked back over to her, "we can have the session now. I'll just need to tell Glorf-"  
"No, no, it can wait until tomorrow," she said calmly.

I nodded. "How about in the morning after breakfast, then?"

"Most suitable. Thank you, Rhodri," Galadriel inclined her head in that same enigmatic way as she usually did when she wanted to say goodnight and look cool all at once, and disappeared in the other direction from the staircase. I gave her a wave and, with a small smile of amusement at this decidedly strange woman, wound my way back to Glorfindel, the progeny, and the party.


	94. Snide and prejudice

**Author's note:** Sorry about the delay, all! Between working on the other two fanfics and life in general, things have kept me plenty busy. I ended up doing a rather big overhaul for this chapter, and I'm pretty keen for how this is going to go! :D :D :D Hope you lovely bunch are doing well, and if you're not, that's perfectly all right, too. Keep up the good work drinking your water and getting in enough dietary fibre!

§

"Mummy, why are you going to your office again today?" Tauros asked over breakfast the next morning.

"Are you going to live there instead of with us?" Taureth chimed in worriedly. She, being the one in my lap this morning, decided that now was the time to grab hold of my robes and cling to me like a koala to a branch.

"Goodness, I couldn't bring myself to live away from you two and Ada," I said in a quiet, mirthful tone as I took a spoonful of blueberries and cajoled them into Taureth's mouth. "Even if the office is only up the stairs."

"_Why_ then?" Tauros repeated gently, boring into me with his big, grey eyes.

"I have to go to work, and my job means I have to listen to people's secrets, so nobody else is allowed to hear."

"What are secrets, Mummy?" Taureth enquired curiously.

"Things you don't want other people knowing about," I replied, wishing I had a clicker on me so I could keep track of how many questions the kids asked a day.

"Like that evening you and Ada were away making us lunch and when we came to find you, you were squeezing Ada's bottom?" Tauros said in a particularly loud volume from his father's lap.

Said father looked up sharply, his eyes huge and his face beet red. There followed a collective silence as all the other diners looked over at us.

I rolled my eyes. As if the kids didn't make awkward remarks all the damn time. You'd think it was the first time they'd said something that wasn't fit for the table, the way people carried on.

"Yes and no," I said calmly. "That _was _a secret, but it isn't any more. You see, a secret's only a secret for as long as it's hidden from other people. Once you tell other people, it's not a secret any more. It's public information."

Tauros' mouth made a huge 'O' as he nodded in understanding.

His sister nodded as well, before deciding to remedy the situation by looking down the table and shouting at the other diners, "Don't listen! You weren't supposed to know that!"

The various people at the table, among them the pairs from whom the twins had received their middle names from, smirked gently at us before turning back to their food.

"Good save, kiddo," I said to her with an amused nod. "Now, can I interest you in another mouthful of the blueberries you've been asking for all week?"

She nodded and opened her mouth, and as I poked another mouthful in, I found myself thanking my parents for the squillionth time that they didn't just dump a four-year-old me into the London Zoo's chimpanzee enclosure and sod off home.

When I had managed to get a clinically acceptable level of nutrition into my designated offspring, I handed her over to Glorfindel and made my way up to my office.

To my relief, Galadriel had not been present at breakfast. When I stood outside the door to my office, I saw that she wasn't waiting nearby, either. I went over to the balustrade of the corridor, which looked out over the path to the main part of Alqualonde and also over a fairly large patch of the beach. I scanned the horizon and saw her walking up from the sand onto the grass. She glanced up at me and smiled. I smiled back and went inside to set up while I waited for her to come in.

After I'd finished bustling about putting things away and taking other things out, I sat down at my desk and made myself look busy with pouring her water. I wasn't sure why, but I had a feeling if Galadriel thought I looked inconvenienced somehow (even if I didn't give two figs if she turned up late or not), it would be harder for her to open up. What could she possibly want to talk to me about? She had nothing to oversee here, so it certainly wasn't going to be what she'd seen me before for.

I wasn't waiting for the answer long. Galadriel turned up at the door after a couple of minutes, and though her face was kept in that usual look of decisive equanimity and enigma, her body language seemed anything but. She held her hands in front of her gently before moving one fluidly up to rest on the door jamb. Hesitant and indecisive, with all the grace of a ballet dancer. Were it not for the fact I found this rather out of character for her, I would have been enchanted by it.

"Hi there, Galadriel," I greeted her with a friendly smile. "Come on in."

She nodded, her expression not changing as she came in and sat down- not even when she was looking away from me closing the door. Even when she had gotten comfortable and accepted her water, her face was the same. She rested her chin gracefully on the fingertips of one hand, her eyes on one corner of the desk as she seemed lost in her own thoughts.

I waited for a few moments to see if she decided to step away from her thoughts a moment and be one half of a conversation, but that seemed not to be on the cards without my intervention in some way.

"What are you thinking about, Galadriel?"

Her eyes flitted up to me.

"You do not already know?" she asked smoothly.

"Ah, you seem to be forgetting my policy of not looking into the heads of others outside of non-emergency situations," I replied with a chuckle.

The first hint of a different expression began to emerge as she squinted slightly, watching me curiously.

"It hasn't changed, I see."

"Well, it certainly hasn't relaxed. If anything, in the absence of evil, it has tightened," I half-shrugged before optimistically adding, "but on the bright side, you can think about whatever you want, knowing you have complete privacy from me until I suspect you might harm yourself or others. Isn't that lovely?"

Galadriel snorted a little.

"Unfortunately for you, that means you'll have to be rather explicit with what you're thinking or feeling. Now, if you don't want to disclose what you're feeling, that's fine, but would you be able to tell me what brings you here today if that's the case?"

She fell into a silence for a moment, and I wondered if this was going to be one of those sessions where I sat in almost a complete absence of sound. Before I could make enquiries about such, though, she spoke.

"I wonder if I have come to the right person," she murmured thoughtfully.

It's surprising how many people ponder that when they seek me out. Sometimes, it's because people aren't quite sure what psychology actually covers, and others are so desperate for reprieve from whatever's torturing them that they decide they have nothing to lose by taking a gamble on me. Often, it's a combination of both, and this seemed to be the case for Galadriel as well.

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"It isn't really a matter of the mind that I seek your advice on."

"The mind covers an awful lot. What do you think it _is_ about?"

"The heart," she whispered.

Huh. I'll be honest, I wasn't really expecting Galadriel to show up in the Valinor branch of my office for anything, but of all the things she _could_ have dropped by for, matters of the heart were among the things I had least anticipated to hear from her.

"Well, for clinical purposes, psychologists tend to regard the heart and the mind as one single organ, so you can be sure that you're in the right place," I reassured her with a smile. "What's going on?"

"I think I made a terrible mistake," she uttered in a half-gasp, uncharacteristic notes of fear creeping into her voice.

"Oh?"

Galadriel looked up at me for the first time now, her piercing, azure eyes wide with distress. After a brief moment, though, she seemed to jolt back into her trademark equanimity as violently as a rock hitting water.

"You are allowed to show distress here, Galadriel," I said gently. "It is not weak to openly display your emotions, and not only am I bound to secrecy that means nobody will know about what goes on in here, but you can be sure that you will be treated with respect in these sessions regardless of how you approach your feelings."

Galadriel nodded once briefly, her gaze familiarly steely.

"You will notice, Rhodri," she began in a businesslike voice, "that I travelled to Valinor without my husband."

I nodded. "Yes, I did."

Her mouth curved up in a small but entirely feigned smile, her eyes not joining in the expression at all. She was displeased.

"Things would be expedited substantially if you were to simply extract the memories I make so readily available to you," she said, her voice almost cold.

"If you wanted someone to read your mind, you would have gone to Olórin, or indeed, you would have bypassed him and gone straight to one of the Valar. You know they adore you. And yet, you came to me," I said steadily. "What does that tell you?"

"That I am a glutton for punishment, I suppose," she murmured dryly, arching an eyebrow.

I bit down hard on my tongue. This would have been the worst time to laugh. God, how tempting it was, though.

"Well, you know, Galadriel, I can't be of any help unless you _want _to work with me. Though at this point, I won't be able to help if we can't even get to the reason as to why you're here." I raised an eyebrow back at her.

Galadriel huffed an impatient sigh. "Oh, very well. I believe I may have broken my marriage beyond repair," she snapped, sharply turning her head to look away.

I frowned slightly. There was only one way to break a marriage in this world, and that was by dying and then refusing to come back to life. But then…

My eyes widened. "Good god, you didn't _kill_ him, did you?" I gasped.

Galadriel turned her head and fixed me with the most blistering look she could muster. "No, you baffling simpleton, of course I didn't kill Celeborn!" she spat.

"Ah-ah, no ableist terms in my office, Galadriel, if you please," I said, holding up a hand calmly. "Now, if you're willing to elaborate, I would be interested to know precisely what you mean when you say you have rendered your marriage unsalvageable."

"Well, that I was willing to depart for Valinor without him should stand as some sort of testament, surely."

I shrugged. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything. You need only look at your daughter's journey here to know that on its own won't stand."

Her lip curled a little. "Celebrian departed knowing Elrond would follow her."

"You weren't certain Celeborn would come, too?"

Galadriel shook her head.

God, and I thought getting details out of Elrond was a trial. This was a whole new level of onerous, not least because Galadriel was such a proud person that if I got the wording of my questions wrong, whatever I had done to loosen her up through the session might be immediately rendered null and void.

"Tell me about what you were saying to each other when you decided to make for the west and Celeborn opted to stay behind?"

Her lips were so tightly sealed that I was wondering if I had missed a moment where she had superglued them together. To my relief, that seemed not to be the case as she opened her mouth and slowly said, "It was not so much said as _shouted."_

My eyebrows raised before I could do anything. Elven couples were usually very affectionate and harmonious. In fact, I only ever heard Elves raise their voice to anyone when one thought the other was out of hearing range, and with Elven hearing acuity being what it was, that didn't happen often at all. I nodded in an attempt to pass off my surprise as a gesture that I was listening and waiting for her to elaborate. Mercifully, she bought it.

"We… well, we had a disagreement about sailing west," she elaborated (sort of).

_That_ was the understatement of the year, I thought to myself.

"Did Celeborn not wish to come to Valinor?"

"I think he might have, but at a later time than what I had in mind," she murmured, pausing before she added, "Or at least I would hope that is the case."

"It sounds like you didn't get a straight answer out of him about it."

"No, and that is my fault, I suppose," she said bitterly. "I made what _I_ wanted very clear, and I failed to listen to him when he said what _he_ wanted."

Whether intentionally or not, Galadriel was being very vague and jumping from thing to thing. It seemed I would have to structure this very carefully if I wanted to get enough details to work with before the Second Coming of Melkor rolled around.

"Take me through the conversation from the beginning," I requested. "How did you get onto the topic in the first place?"

"He walked in on me packing a bag," Galadriel whispered, her eyes widening a little as if her own words had shocked her. "It was just after we had received word from you that you were departing for Valinor."

That wasn't such a horrifying thing, really. Packing a bag? Most Elves were doing that at that point, and yet she seemed so shaken by it. Unless…

"Had you two not discussed leaving Middle-Earth prior to this?" I asked.

She closed her eyes and shook her head sadly.

Ah. That explains it. That's not _really_ the most constructive way to bring up the topic of moving house (and continent) with your spouse, even if you can read each other's minds. Some things really ought to be outlined in a conversation, verbal or otherwise, rather than left to interpretation. Worse still, she hadn't done it in front of him to bring the topic up; she had been walked in on.

"Had you been packing the bag just for you? Or was it for the both of you?"

Galadriel's eyes opened quickly and she looked at me in surprise. "Oh, both of us, of course," she returned, as though that much were obvious.

"So what did he say when he found you there packing things for the two of you?"

"He… he reminded me that I had not yet asked him what he wanted, and asked whether it had occurred to me that he might want to stay in Middle-Earth for the next years."

"To which you replied?"

"I was tired," she said defensively, as if it were a heads-up to stop me from scrutinising and condemning her before she revealed what she had told her husband.

"Remember, Galadriel, within these four walls, I am your therapist," I pointed out gently. "Nothing less, but nothing more, either. My sole purpose is to assist you. Not to punish you, not to change you in a way I see fit, and certainly not to judge you. I know this isn't black and white. Please continue as you wish."

Galadriel nodded. She took a deep breath, held it a moment, and let it out through her nose slowly before speaking again.

"Again, I was tired," she said quickly. "I… ah... I remarked that he usually didn't mind me taking control."

An awkward silence hung over the room as Galadriel failed to elaborate of her own accord, but given the way her cheeks burned as she stared at her knees, I had a fairly good inkling of the several contexts that comment hinted at.

"And what did Celeborn say to that?"

Galadriel's lip curled and her eyes briefly shut in embarrassment. "He thanked me to leave references to our bedroom life out of the conversation and reminded me- not that I needed a reminder- that we had a newly-mortal granddaughter with whom our time in the foreseeable future was very limited." She straightened up a little now, looking quite indignant as details started to tumble out of her.

"As though I weren't aware of the consequences of Arwen's choice! I asked him if he really thought I had not given any attention to that fact before I got to the point of realising my life in Middle-Earth had come to a close."

I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. Now don't mistake me, when people get married, each party remains an individual. No questions there. But there _are_ circumstances in married life in which the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Moving house and continent is one of them. Really not the kind of situation where the decision is based on 'I' instead of 'we' statements.

"So how did Celeborn answer that question?"

"He called me selfish," she sniffed in displeasure. "And then he said to me that he wanted to stay in Middle-Earth for the rest of Arwen's life, and to keep an eye on Elladan and Elrohir. I mean, really, Rhodri. Selfish!" Galadriel shook her head, looking supremely annoyed now.

"I see, and-"

"What do you mean, "I see"?" she demanded, leaning forward in her seat now. "Are you agreeing with him?"

"Again, Galadriel, I am not here to pass judgement on you, good or bad," I answered patiently. "I merely acknowledged that I heard what you said. But I will have to ask that you have a sip of water and take a moment to rebalance yourself, because your defensiveness today has made you quite hostile at times, and we will have to end the session early if you cannot check it."

It may seem like I was a little harder on Galadriel than, say, Caranthir, who had at times also been quite snakey during our earlier sessions. I was harder on her, in fact. Galadriel did not have problems controlling her temper. I had room to expect better of her, particularly because she had many tools to manage her emotions at her disposal which her pride kept her from using, whereas Caranthir had never been given those. He lashed out because he didn't know any better. She lashed out because she was too proud to look her flaws in the face.

Galadriel's face, for what may have been the first time in recorded history, turned brick red. It had, apparently, been quite some time since someone pulled her up for her behaviour. Clearing her throat, she mumbled a shy apology.

"I'm sorry, Rhodri.

"Perfectly all right," I assured her mildly. "Now, what did you say in response to that comment made by Celeborn?"

Her piercing eyes darted away from mine as she stared contritely at my bookcase. "I shrugged, took his clothes out of the bag, and put them away before resuming packing," she murmured sadly.

I nodded, noting this down.

"He said that it was almost as though I didn't care whether he came or not," she added, not needing to be prompted this time. "And I…"

Galadriel winced as she trailed off. I put down my pen and waited for her to collect herself enough to resume. After a minute, she still looked tortured, and her shoulders had not moved the entire time.

"Remember to breathe, Galadriel," I reminded her gently.

Her shoulders rose at last as her lungs inflated for what must have been the first time in seventy seconds. After a few deep breaths, she picked up where she left off.

"I told him that if he could not keep up with me, he should get out of my way," she said in a strained voice. "After that, I finished packing the bag and left for Imladris straight away."

Our last few months in Imladris had been a blur to me. My own unprocessed post-war misery had, in all honesty, taken up so much of my waking hours that I had been functioning on autopilot most of the time, tying up loose knots and keeping an eye on Elrond. Like I was on a months long nonstop shift at the clinic while trying to relocate it. In the midst of all that chaos, it hadn't really registered at the time, but now I realised that Galadriel had indeed arrived in Imladris on her own, and quite a few months before departure. Any of the other folk from the Golden Wood intending to sail west had come a few months after her.

I rubbed my chin and watched her, waiting to see what she would add to that, but she shook her head.

"No more was said between us," she breathed, and in that moment, she looked like she had never been sorrier in her life. "I did not think there would be any issue, because I was so sure that Celeborn would follow me right away. But he did not appear in Imladris, and he has not come here, either. No letters have come via other Eldar who have arrived recently, either. But I have not spoken to anyone about it until now."

I raised my eyebrows, quite taken aback now. "You mean you've been suffering like this all by yourself for the last two-and-a-half years?"

"It has been very trying," she replied gingerly.

"That is more than plausible. So what is it that brings you here today? Did you need someone to tell it all to in a confidential environment, or is there something you think I might be able to help with?"

"Do you… ah… provide counsel for quarreling spouses?" Galadriel asked nervously.

"I have occasionally provided marriage counselling, yes, though it's not exactly a specialty, but how-"

"Help me, then, Rhodri," she said quickly, reaching across the desk and taking my hands in hers tightly. "Help me fix this and bring Celeborn here." Her pleading eyes bored into me. "I know I made a mistake. A very expensive one. I do not wish to be sundered from him, not even in the Blessed Realm."

I gently eased my hands out of hers. That seemed cold, but I had never allowed any of my clients to touch me, nor did I touch them, with the exception of moving Celebrian's hands away from her head so that she didn't hurt herself when she was having a flashback. The circumstances around all this- living with the Elves, befriending them, and working with them in other capacities, made it hard enough for me to maintain a separate role as a psychologist. Allowing intimate communication such as physical touch, or even calling them by the nicknames I gave them, made my role as a therapist much less distinct and made it far too hard for me to be objective, and for them to separate the everyday Rhodri from the psychologist Rhodri in therapy.

"I'm sorry, Galadriel," I said in what I hoped was a kind but firm voice. "I do not allow any touching or overly familiar interactions when I act in my professional capacity so that I can keep this space open for you whenever you need it. I appreciate your understanding."

Galadriel seemed to understand, and nodded slowly. "I apologise, Rhodri," she murmured.

"Please don't. There's no need for that. Now, to get back to your request, how do you propose I help you to patch things up with Celeborn?"

"I cannot reach his mind from here. Perhaps you could," she suggested hopefully.

I shrugged. "I can certainly try, but that's a far longer distance than I have ever successfully done this. Let me see now…"

Closing my mind to everything around me, I focused my eyes on the desk and though I knew what I wanted, I just couldn't seem to get my mind connected up to Celeborn's. Whether it was because I couldn't cross the great divide between Valinor and Middle-Earth, or Celeborn was not immediately accessible for other reasons, I wasn't sure.

"I can't seem to reach him," I lamented after several fruitless attempts. "I'm sorry, Galadriel."

When I looked up at her, I saw her azure eyes were filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks.

"But… but I need to reach him…" Galadriel whispered. "Rhodri, please…"

I took a handkerchief out of my drawer and handed it to her, wrinkling my brow as I racked my brain for options. As she started to dissolve into quiet but thoroughly wretched wails, I couldn't help but feel terrible for her. Don't mistake me, Galadriel had messed up hugely. She literally took a one-way trip to another continent not even checking to see if the spouse was going to join her there at some point.

I doubted very much that Celeborn was entirely blameless in this, though; he must surely have known that Galadriel's power was depleted after that ring of hers was destroyed. Not that it excused Galadriel's behaviour, but she was well and truly burnt out after all those years of exercising all the powers at her disposal to keep the realm safe. Some difficulty in behaviour wasn't wholly unexpected, and he didn't strike me as the easiest person to live with, himself.

"Okay, look. Let me have a think on this for a while and I'll see if I can't think of some way to assist you both, all right?" I said. "Give me… say, three days to chew it over and we'll meet back here. How does that sound?"

Her crying took a moment to come to a complete stop, and she didn't seem able to speak, so she nodded and dried her eyes with the handkerchief.

"I tell you what, let's take a break for today. Go for a walk, clear your head a little. If you can think of anything more you want to talk about, come and find me at dinner tonight and we can discuss it tomorrow."

Another nod. She picked up her water and drained it. Fortunately, she hadn't cried for long, so her face returned to normal very quickly. Murmuring her thanks quietly, Galadriel got up and left me in the office, wondering what magical solution I could possibly offer her and her now-estranged husband.

I decided to stay in my office for a little while and use the alone time to start pondering ideas.

As per usual, I sat there with the window open in the hopes an idea might fall into my lap, but half an hour later, it seemed manifestly clear that I was going to have to rely on something in greater supply than sky-dropped lightbulb moments to resolve this.

Heaving a sigh, I packed up Galadriel's file, grabbed my backpack, and left the office for the day. Galadriel had really come to the wrong Maia for this, I mused to myself as I ambled down the corridor. If she needed me to pick up a hundred ton watermelon, I could have done it. If she wanted relaxation exercises, I was her Ainu. Mental teleconferencing, however, was not in my realm of expertise. That was much more up Olórin's-

"Olórin," I breathed. He would know what to do, surely. And I knew just where to find him.

I hurtled down the stairs, taking them five at a time, and made for the courtyard where Bilbo and Frodo would often sit and enjoy the mid-morning sun. Olórin stuck to the Hobbits like an imprinted duckling these days, so he was bound to be there.

Sure enough, as I reached the communal gardens, there were the two hairyfeet, and Olórin sat beside Bilbo with an arm around him. I couldn't help but admire the tenderness he reserved for the two of them. Hard to believe it was the same person who would intentionally get on my tits in Imladris by smoking outside my open window whenever he was visiting.

"Hello, there, you three," I said to them jovially (and loudly, since Bilbo's hearing wasn't up to much).

"Oh, Rhodri!" Bilbo greeted me happily. "Lovely! Come and sit with us awhile."

"Ooh, you're tempting me, Bilbo, but I'm in a bit of a rush today. I was wondering if I could avail myself of your wizard for a few minutes, and then I'll leave you three in peace to enjoy the sunshine."

Olórin nodded, standing up and excusing himself as he followed me over the grass to a patch of wild near Caranthir's abandoned house.

"_To what do I owe the pleasure, Rhodri?"_ he asked, a small but generous smile lighting up his almost otherworldly features.

"_I need your opinion on something, Olórin," _I began. "_I need to get hold of someone in Arda. How would I go about that?"_

Olórin frowned. "_You want to contact someone…?"_

"_In Middle-Earth, yes,"_ I confirmed. "_Is that possible?"_

"_If it is, it is not something any Maia is capable of. That much, I am sure of. Does the person you wish to speak with own a Palantir? Lady Varda may allow you to use hers to contact them."_

I shook my head. "_Not as far as I know, no."_

"_Perhaps you should speak with Irmo, then," _he suggested. "_I imagine he will have an answer for you."_

"_Good idea. Where would I find him? Is it far to travel to him from here?"_

"_Come now, Vinyaten, that is immaterial," _Olórin said with a laugh. He put a hand on my shoulder, and together, we vanished in less than half of a puff of smoke.


	95. Mind games

**Author's note: **If I can make a suggestion for background music for Rhodri and Olórin's visit to Irmo, put on the FoTR soundtrack (the orchestral one) and listen to the track Caras Galadhon, which is played when the Fellowship enters Lothlorien after fleeing from Moria. The Vala Irmo is known also as Lorien, which is another name given to the realm of Lothlorien (Lorien means dream/slumber), hence the link between the two in this chapter. Up to about 3:30 is Rhodri and Olórin wandering around, and after that, they enter the house of Irmo, just to give you an idea of what I was working with.

§

When we materialised a moment later, I found that I was rammed with a lot of strong emotions upon seeing where we had landed. Confusion because we must have been travelling for longer than a millisecond. It was the middle of the day, and yet it appeared to be twilight where we had landed. I couldn't see the sun in the sky. The gentle glow that was in the place seemed to simply _be_ there, with no real source from anywhere to speak of.

Even stronger was the feeling of being almost overwhelmed. We had landed, from what I could see, in a vast garden that had the quietly productive vigour of the established night but the gentle sleepiness of an encroaching dusk. My senses were flooded immediately- the grass was soft and springy under my feet, the perfume of nightflowers and pine on the air, and I could hear the gentle, sweet songs of the nightingales sitting in the branches of the yew trees that seemed both rejuvenating and relaxing all at once.

And the garden itself! My god! There were forests of yew and cedar trees arranged into clever mazes and labyrinths, all connected by white footpaths. Small but deep pools of clear water, blue as a glacier, dotted the grounds from time to time, and the poppies nearby blazed red in the somnolent, hypnotic glow of the dusky afternoon. The only movement to be seen, aside from the calm, contented milling about of people clad in robes of white, silver, or purple, came from the glowworms at the borders of the forests as they gently swayed their luminous tails back and forth. It was the most fitting place I could have imagined to be the home of Irmo, lord of dreams, desires, and visions.

I felt a delicious, tempting urge to lie down on one of the benches close by and allow myself to drift off. Though I wasn't actually weary, sleep felt so much closer here, like it was standing right beside me, not needing to be called over like usual. Waiting for me to simply give it the cue, and it would do the rest.

"_Rhodri?"_

I jerked out of my waking reverie and saw Olórin with a sphinxlike smile on his face.

"_Come. Irmo's house is over there."_ He pointed at a vast, silvery-grey edifice that glowed softly like a star.

Nodding, I fell into a stroll with Olórin as we walked along one of the paths leading up to the house. As we passed a cluster of forest, my breath caught as I saw the interior of the forest had stars sitting up in the treetops like fairy lights, a tiny microcosm of the night sky glued to the canopy.

The strangest of all the emotions in this cocktail was the feeling of eerie familiarity. Something in me knew that nothing here had changed over the long ages, even if the sights were all as breathtaking and absorbing as though I had only seen them for the first time.

As we reached the building, I ascended the steps to the huge double doors and, as if on autopilot, knocked on the right door four times. Olórin's smile hadn't disappeared the entire time, but now I felt quite nervous.

"_Don't leave me, brother,"_ I murmured to him as I reached out and gently took him by the arm, almost as if I were anchoring an errant balloon.

Olórin said nothing, merely giving me a benign nod and allowing himself to be led inside as the doors slowly swung open.

The interior of these vast, dark halls was shrouded in a soft mist, illuminated by the glow of what seemed to be a smaller replica of a moon, affixed to the ceiling that seemed a hundred metres up. The same stars that were in the forest were there as well, liberally peppering the roof and shining down on us like a million tiny torches.

I cautiously took Olórin down the halls, and my thoughts had sped up to almost mach speed now. Would Irmo remember me? Did we part on bad terms? Was I even welcome back here? What would even happen? My blood pressure must have been through the roof at that point, but Olórin was the exact opposite. If anything, he was calmer in Irmo's halls than he was in the gardens outside, and he had already been very much at ease out there.

I, however, knew that I wasn't the sort of person who belonged in the night-time, even if the mind, the very thing I had devoted my life's work to understanding, was shrouded in the same mysterious darkness as dreams and things of the night. There is nothing wrong with the night. It's gentle, musical, and nuanced. But like Tulkas, I had always dwelled in the light, extracting parts of the mind into the mercilessly bright, candid luminescence of the day to examine and treat from out there. No wonder I had had less promise as Irmo's student than Olórin, I thought to myself as we drew nearer and nearer to where I knew Irmo was.

At the very end of the hall was where Irmo sat, and he cut an exquisite, imposing figure in the nebulous darkness. He was a colossal, imposing sort, who shone like a white lamp. His hair was an icy silver, and his eyes were like green jadestones that matched the robes he wore. On his brow sat a crown of scintillating, pearlescent flowers that softened the sharpness of his strikingly beautiful face. Beside him sat a similarly arresting woman, dressed from head to toe in grey. Her wavy hair was the colour of ink, and was adorned with a veil of jewels that shone like the night sky. I knew she was his wife, Este, healer of hurts and sorrows

The two of them smiled as we approached, and I felt myself grip tighter onto Olórin's arm now.

"_Ah, my youngest pupil,"_ he said in a smooth voice that poured into my ears like liquid gold. He opened his arms graciously, inviting us to approach him. "_Welcome home, Vinyaten."_

"_Thank you," _I replied, feeling calmer already as he and Este watched Olórin and me happily.

"_I know why you are here," _he continued. "_Your wish to contact someone in Middle-Earth is not as straightforward as you might hope, though, little Maia."_

"_It isn't?"_

"_No,"_ Irmo shook his head a little now. "_But that is for more reasons than one."_

I looked at him curiously. Surely if anyone had the power to arrange a Skype call between me and Celeborn, it would be Irmo.

"_I mean, it need not be direct back-and-forth communication," _I offered. "_If you would prefer to reach him via the medium of dream, you could simply extract what I had intended to say to the person and relay it like that. You know their thoughts during the day, so we could tailor responses to that."_

"_I could, yes, but I think there are better approaches that have… greater outcomes, we might say."_

"_Oh?"_

"_Indeed. I will arrange passage for you to Arda and you can speak with your desired contact yourself."_

My eyes widened, much to Irmo's amusement.

"_Physically return to Middle-Earth?"_ I squeaked, absolutely horrified. "_But- but-"_

"_Fear not, little Maia. You may travel with your family, and you shall return to Valinor with the last of the Eldar by boat."_

"_Lord Irmo, surely it would be more efficient to simply penetrate the mind of my contact here and now and allow me a few hours to speak with them to relay the desired message."_

"_It would if that were all you needed to do, yes, but there is more for you to take care of there than simply speaking to one person," _Irmo returned smoothly, an entertained smile spreading over his face now.

"_What would you have me do?" _I asked, watching him closely.

Irmo leaned back in his throne casually. "_That much, you will find out later. I will send you in due course."_

Irritation started building in me. I don't really care for cryptic language at the best of times, but this guy was about to chuff me back to Arda when I was settled here, and I'd only come asking for a little help communicating with Celeborn as a favour to Galadriel.

Aware of my displeasure, Irmo chuckled a little. "_You have Tulkas' impatience. Know, though, that it is best you do not learn more of your task early. Things will become clear soon enough. For now, though, I want for you to enjoy life here. Put the mission out of your mind, and tell nobody for now. Watch your children grow. Counsel others as you need, and remind them to be patient. When it is time for you to leave, I will send for you, and you shall have some information then."_

"_May I at least ask how long it will be until you send for me? A rough time frame, as it were?" _I requested, hoping my question would not be considered cheeky.

"_As long as it takes," _he replied simply.

Well, that was about as useful an answer as a screen door on a submarine. Still, though, I had a funny feeling that was the most descriptive answer I could hope for. Feeling quite deflated, I gave Irmo and Este a deferential nod and left the hall with Olórin.

The two of us wordlessly traversed the gardens back onto the patch of grass where we had materialised in the first place. I should have been excited, but instead, I was gripped with sadness. I knew that returning to Middle-Earth would be a hard pill to swallow, now that I had established myself here. I had already said my goodbyes there and made my peace. We had left to sail west at a point in time that had coincided with the very last moments of splendour in the Elven realms, and if we had to go back there, I knew it would be diminished. I would be reliving all of the horrible losses- and new ones- with even less of the rose-coloured tint that had made it bearable in the first place. And so would Glorfindel, if he came along, too.

"_They treat me like I am their plaything," _I whispered to Olórin in miserable indignance, a wave of resurging grief starting to choke off my voice. I covered my face with one hand, wiping the tears out of my eyes with my finger and thumb and shaking my head angrily.

I felt Olórin pull me into a gentle embrace. "_I felt the same way when I was sent to Arda," _he murmured quietly. "_They know more of the goings-on in the world than we ever could, and though they know best, the pain of our tasks is not lessened. Such is the life of a Maia, though. Our power comes with obligations, and now and then, we pay the price."_

He stepped away, hands on my shoulders and bent down a little to catch my eye, smiling kindly at me. "_All will be well. Come, let's go home."_

With that, we were standing back on the lawn in Alqualonde before I could even finish blinking. We strolled back over to where Bilbo and Frodo were sun-worshipping.

"_Thank you for your help today," _I murmured to Olórin before leaving him to his Hobbits. Wishing them all a good morning, I went back to the house and started pacing the halls. I had no idea where I was going and I didn't care, wanting to walk off my bad mood before I went back to Glorfindel and the kids.

§

When Galadriel turned up to dinner that evening, I made sure to give her the ocular equivalent of a flagging-down, which she acknowledged. As Glorfindel and I began on the usual task of convincing our children that it was, in fact, prudent to eat, I couldn't help but wonder if they ever actually felt hunger or thirst.

"Beloved, have you ever heard Tauros or Taureth's bellies rumble?" I asked my spouse as we watched the offspring repurpose their dinner into missiles that narrowly missed Olórin's right ear.

Glorfindel paused with the latest of these that he was attempting to redirect into our daughter's mouth.

"No, actually, I haven't," he murmured in surprise. "Do… do you think they have no need to eat or drink?"

"I'm starting to suspect it. I can't recall a single time they've given any indication they needed replenishment of either sort. Not even as newborns."

They'd never cried from hunger or thirst as babies. In fact, I had often had the devil's own job trying to get them to eat back then, too. How had this not occurred to me earlier?

I leaned over to Tauros, who was perched on my lap, seeming to run the gamut of ways to use food that didn't involve eating it.

"Tauros- Tauros, look at me a minute. We can launch things in the backyard tonight, but not with the food at the table. Now, I have a big question for you, so think carefully before you answer, all right? No hurry."

Tauros carefully put his spoon down on his plate and turned to face me, his liquid mercury eyes observing me in fascination.

"Tell me, do you ever get a funny feeling in your tummy that goes away when you eat?"

He wrinkled his brow a little and then shook his head, his thatch of hair rustling gently.

"What about your mouth? Does it get dry if you don't drink anything?"

Tauros shook his head again. "Your questions are strange, Mummy."

"Ah, well, you see, the Elves need to eat food and drink water regularly, otherwise their tummy feels empty and their mouth goes dry. It seems, though, that you don't need to."

He looked at me in surprise for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing a loud, rusty laugh. "That's very silly," he declared when he pulled himself together.

"Bodies are very strange things," I acknowledged.

When I looked up at Glorfindel, who had been putting a similar enquiry to Taureth, he shook his head.

Well. That's that sorted, I thought to myself. No more worrying if they were getting enough to eat and drink. How convenient. I took Taureth onto my other knee to let Glorfindel finish his food, and after dinner when he had cleared his plate, I passed both children to him so that I could go and speak with Galadriel. Surreptitiously, of course, but by now, Glorfindel was used to me palming my assigned child off to him for a moment so I could do my job in relative secrecy.

Others had already filed out of the dining hall to take an evening stroll or stand around and gossip in the hallways (presumably so our children couldn't overhear and divulge it at the statistically least convenient moment), and I found Galadriel slowly walking down the hallway in the direction of my office.

Getting up, I took the other way around which would get me there at roughly the same time if I power walked. The efforts I took to maintain privacy made me feel like a secret agent, which I can't deny had a bit of a badass feel to it.

I ended up reaching the clinic before she did, leaving it open and strumming on my guitar until she arrived. Closing the door behind her, Galadriel sauntered over and took a seat.

"You wished to see me?"

"Mmm, yes," I said, setting the guitar down and turning back to face her. I laced my fingers together, wondering where to start. When I looked up, I saw her scrutinising me with a serene smile that I knew belied concern.

"Don't be afraid. I did some research to see what I could do to assist, and I got an answer."

Galadriel nodded, inviting me to continue. The muscles around her eyes tightened just a smidge, enough to show her growing unease.

"I will be able to help you get in touch with Celeborn, but not yet."

The mildly tautened muscles around her eyes relaxed at once, and her shoulders slackened.

"I don't know when I will be able to do it. Presently, I don't have the resources, and I have to wait for them."

"That information is quite vague, Rhodri," Galadriel said with a hint of a smirk.

"It has to be that way, I'm afraid," I confessed. "What I can tell you is that you will have to use me as a messenger. Whatever information you want me to impart to Celeborn, you will have to supply to me beforehand. Now, I have two suggestions to pair with that, if you're open to hearing them."

Galadriel replied that she was.

"Right. Well, I would like to recommend that in the lead-up to my speaking with Celeborn, that you undergo a modified version of what is known as couples' counselling. If you felt you made a mistake bad enough to jeopardise your marriage or estrange your husband, you are a suitable candidate for that. In couples' counselling, we examine how your feelings and behaviour impact your relationship dynamic and modify any problematic ones to improve that dynamic."

To my surprise, she was very receptive to the idea, nodding and accepting straight away.

"And the second suggestion?"

"Ah, yes. Normally, there would be sessions where both of you are present, but geographically, that is impossible. I personally believe that Celeborn will be more receptive to coming to Valinor if you can genuinely acknowledge your mistakes and show real progress. If I may, I would like to show things like your homework and perhaps even excerpts of my clinical notes to make available for Celeborn to read. Similarly, I will recommend the same with him if he is open to it, since I am quite sure he is not blameless in this, either."

Another nod. "Yes, very well. Show him whatever you think is suitable."

"Jolly good. Well, we'll leave it at that for tonight. Let's have one initial session a couple of days before I leave for Formenos, and we'll pick it up in earnest when I get back. Is that all right?"

"That will be fine," she agreed.

"Right. In which case, before you go, I would like to set you some homework, and that will help me to get an idea of where to start with therapy. Task number one is to pretend that you have an chance to write a letter to Celeborn. It is your sole opportunity to contact him, and so you have to put everything into the letter you wish to say to him right now. Let's say the word limit sits within ten pages." I wrote the instructions for task one on a blank piece of paper.

"Task number two is to make a list of things you like and dislike about yourself, about Celeborn, and about your relationship together. Three lists, then, I suppose. Maximum of one page each. I think that should be enough to keep you hopping for the next little while, so let's leave it at that." I jotted down the second instruction and a small note at the bottom before handing it to Galadriel.

She took it, read through it, and frowned a little.

"_Be brave enough to be wrong."_

I nodded. "Just a little reminder. It's a hard slog summoning up the courage to admit you've made a mistake, but you've done so wonderfully so far. Keep up the good work. See you in two and a half weeks."

Inclining her head a little, she rose from her chair and left the office.

I found myself feeling quite weary after everything that had happened that day, and dragged myself out of the clinic to see what had become of Glorfindel, maybe knock back a Miruvor or two before starting night duty.

I found him in one of the communal rooms with his parents, Galwen enthralling Taureth and Tauros with a tale about the trees Laurelin and Telperion. I sat down between Glorfindel and Gloredhel.

"How are you?" Glorfindel asked gently as Galwen continued narrating.

"Tired, actually," I admitted. "It's been a rather long day. I'd like nothing better than to fall asleep, truth be told."

"Let us have the children tonight," Gloredhel offered. "We can take them for a walk and do some stargazing until the sun starts to rise."

"That would be fantastic," I gave my father-in-law a relieved smile, and he pat me on the back affectionately.

"Easy does it, young Rhodri," he said kindly. "The rest will do you good."

"Here's hoping, Gloredhel."

§

There was a commotion in the vast, glowing white halls of Manwë and Varda, who were seated and joining the rest of the Valar in watching the long-winded argument between Tulkas and Irmo wear on yet more.

"_Tulkas, you must stop being so selfish about this. There is no good reason Vinyaten should not receive instruction from me. You know perfectly well Manwë wants the Istari to be formed, and she is a excellent candidate!" _The serene beauty in Irmo's face was disturbed by the drawing together of his brows as he watched the Champion of the Valar with ill humour.

"_And what of my own plan for her?" _came Tulkas' reply. His fervent, bright eyes sparkled with indignance as he gestured at me. "_You are yet to supply me with a single reason she could not feasibly be the one to chain Sauron just as I did with Melkor. Or are you happy to allow history to repeat itself, remembering how readily you dismissed the claims of mine, Oromë's, and Yavanna's when we told you that Melkor was not to be trusted?"_

Oromë and Yavanna shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and the rest of the Valar winced, seeming to feel the sting from the comment even though it had not directly been for them.

Irmo closed his eyes and appeared to roll them before he crossed his arms. "_We are not about to flay that topic yet again, Tulkas, surely. We are making an effort to remedy that error in judgement, and the current proposed solution is via the Istari." _He arched an eyebrow at Tulkas as though he were observing a child's tantrum. "_So far as I can see, your pride is what keeps you from meaningfully contributing to any of this."_

"_You are awfully keen to wear out my good graces for someone who has been in the wrong, Irmo!" _Tulkas snapped.

My stomach turned into knots as Manwë got up from his throne, rising to his full, dauntingly colossal height as he strode over to the arguing Valar, who had now descended into obviously angry discourse.

"_Irmo, Tulkas, I have asked you both on several occasions now to find a peaceful compromise to this, but it would seem that such a request is far from being fulfilled." _ Manwë glanced down at me for a moment before shifting his heart-stoppingly bright eyes to Tulkas and Irmo, watching them in disappointment.

The two Valar fell silent as he spoke, and seemed to exert some effort in straightening out their frowns before turning to face Manwë.

"_I was told that this would not resolve without intervention, and so I took it to Ilúvatar to decide. It is his will that Vinyaten be taken out of the World until you can collect yourselves enough to negotiate productively." _Manwë squatted down until he was eye-level with me, a gentle smile softening his imposingly flawless face.

A small gasp rippled through the Valar. I recoiled in horror and grabbed Tulkas' hand. "_Work something out!" _I screamed at him, tugging him down to me so roughly that he stumbled onto the marble floor beside me, landing on his knee. "_Don't let me be taken away, Tulkas!"_

Tulkas looked up at me, and his eyes were glistening with tears. He turned sharply to face Irmo.

"_Surely we can find a way to train her that is agreeable to us both."_

"_We have already tried that, Tulkas," _Irmo said softly. "_I have told you I need more time with her than what you are willing to give."_

"_I'm afraid it's too late to undo this now," _Manwë said heavily. "_It was decided as soon as this argument started again."_

"_But… but please," _I begged him, still clutching onto Tulkas' hand. "_I don't want to go. I can help, but don't send me away. My home is with Tulkas. I love it here."_

"_It cannot be helped, Vinyaten," _Manwë said patiently. "_This is the will of Ilúvatar. You will come back to us again one day, but for now, it is time to leave."_

My entire body seemed to seize up, no air making it into my lungs to replenish the soft whines that were coming out of me now. "_No. Please. Tulkas, please."_ The room around me started to darken, and a stricken Tulkas was the last thing I could make out, my quiet entreaties growing into ear-splitting, jarring howls of misery. And then when everything went completely black, I was alone again, floating once more in the lightless, silent nothingness that I had started out in all those ages ago, my screams still echoing somewhere in the distance.

§

"_Rhodri! RHODRI!" _

The noise went through me like an electric shock, and for what seemed like the first time in hours, my body drew in a breath so forcefully that the contracting muscles swung me upright. My eyes flew open and in the dark, through what seemed to be very watery eyes, I saw a panicked Glorfindel holding my shoulders.

I didn't say anything for a moment, panting heavily as the water continued to leak from my eyes. He took a hand from my shoulders and put it on my face, rubbing my cheek with his thumb.

"You've been screaming and shouting in your sleep for a while now," Glorfindel said gently. "I've been trying for half an hour to wake you. It must have been a terrible dream you were having..."

"Oh, no. That was a memory," I said bitterly, my lip curling angrily.

Glorfindel's eyes widened. "What happened?"

I couldn't bring myself to explain it, instead wordlessly drawing Glorfindel into my head and letting him see for himself. When he came to, he was ashen-faced.

"Oh, Rhodri," he whispered before pulling me into a tight embrace. "That was horrific."

"I'm less than pleased about it, I will admit," I returned as I wrapped my arms around Glorfindel, the anger climbing in me despite the comfort his closeness brought. At that point, I realised that I was dripping with perspiration from head to toe, and my temper rose a little more.

"For fuck's sake," I cursed. "Now you're covered in sweat, too. I'm sorry, darling. I hadn't even noticed." Summoning the last of my patience, I let out a heavy sigh. "Let's go and wash off, yes?"

"Whatever you want," he said quickly, getting up with me as we made for the bathtub.

When we re-emerged half an hour later, I stood staring at the bed as Glorfindel climbed into it, finding my furious mood had not improved in the slightest.

"Do you know, I don't feel quite ready for sleep again just yet," I murmured. "I think I might take a short walk, get something to eat and drink from the kitchens."

"Would you like some company?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I'll only be a few minutes. Do you want anything while I'm down there?"

"Perhaps a slice of that bee sting cake for both of us?" Glorfindel suggested gently. "Something sweet to counter the bitterness of that memory."

"Good plan," I said, smiling with a little difficulty before setting off.

As I stormed my way down to the kitchens, I clenched my fists so tightly I inadvertently cracked my knuckles. I was sure that Irmo had given me that memory tonight on purpose, and I was livid about it. How _dare_ he, I thought to myself. I remembered liking him well enough, and when he trained me, he was a good teacher. To throw me into this task of returning to Middle-Earth, making me so wearily sad that I had to sleep- that was one thing. But then, on the same night of all this- the only one I had tried to get any sleep in- to make me relive the first time I was ripped out of my home? Was there a shred of mercy in this bastard?

In the kitchens, I went to the huge island counter in the middle and grabbed the bee sting cake to cut a couple of slices when a voice from near the window startled me.

"Well hello, there- oh, sorry, Rhodri. I hadn't meant to scare you," Celebrían said, giving me a devilish grin.

"Celebrían!" I gasped, forgetting for a moment that I was angry. "What are you doing awake at this hour?"

"I'm just about to go back to bed, actually. I started thinking about the children and found it all a little overwhelming, so I came down here for some water." I saw her wipe her cheek quickly and thought it best not to comment on it, lest it re-open the wound. "Did you hear that screaming before?"

"Hear it?" I echoed ruefully. "I _made _it."

Celebrían goggled at me. "That was _you?"_ She strode over to me quickly and put her hands on my shoulders. "What happened, Rhodri? Are you unwell?" She watched me gently as her brows knitted in concern.

A small smile crept over my mouth. For all their precocious snobbery and bouts of narrow-mindedness, the Elves made very devoted, loving friends, and I knew they would have tried to move mountains for me if I'd asked it of them.

Darling Celebrían, who had patiently shared her near-encyclopaedic knowledge of plants with me for hours at a time when we gardened. The same person whose first thought, even in her most painful moments, was the happiness of others. The picture of the spaghetti bolognese on the table shot through my mind. That was on her last day in Middle-Earth. She must have spent half an hour explaining to the cooks how to prepare it, just to make me laugh a little after she had already started the journey west. And after she had suffered so much, too. Even now, after crying about her own children, she came to me to see if I was all right.

As I looked into Celebrían's soft, silvery eyes, my stomach dropped. It had hit me: I was going to Middle-Earth for her and Elrond, too, to herd Elladan and Elrohir back here as well as Celeborn.

I drew Celebrían into a tight hug and at that moment, my anger seemed so insignificant compared to the relief that would come with them having at least two of Elrond's and her three children back. Any resentment about having to travel vanished at that point. There was no way I would turn down an opportunity to ease their suffering, being a plaything of the Valar or not.

Celebrían seemed confused by my rapid turnaround in emotions, but she lovingly returned my embrace all the same.

"I'll be just fine, thanks," I replied when the hug broke, turning back to the cake now and putting the slices onto a plate. "I'll get you to direct any questions to Glorfindel, though. Ask him whatever you want. I'm not quite up to talking about it yet, myself." Clapping Celebrían on the shoulder, I wished her goodnight and headed back out to the corridor.

Taking the stairs back up to our quarters, I got this funny feeling that Irmo might have done me something of a favour in bringing that memory to the fore, saving me from a lot of future resentment and worry. I couldn't help but wish he'd done it in a less painful way, though.


	96. Have rubber, will bounce

** Guest: **Hah. Mediocre things come to those who wait! I needed a couple of weeks to pull the details together just right, and of course, Aine has also kept me hopping. To be truthful, I wish I had more time to devote to _My Enemy's Enemy_, because I really want to do something with that. With that said, idk, 400k+ words over a few months isn't bad ;)

** Sansa: **In my interpretation of things, the Maiar had no need for rejuvenation in that regard. I think if Gandalf had lived within the limits of a truly ancient body like what he had, he would have been in no fit state to travel across the continent, or fight in wars. Mental exhaustion, however, I'm sure was definitely a thing.

§

After eating cake in bed with Glorfindel, I found myself relaxed enough to be game to try and sleep again. My little gamble paid off, thankfully, because by that stage, I was feeling hugely drawn. My reward of a few hours of dreamless sleep had come at last, not interrupted by any surprise resurgences of traumatic memories.

But of course, my refreshed state upon waking didn't negate the fact that I had made a holy show of myself for a solid half-hour in the night just past, and the household was accordingly subdued over breakfast. I, personally, found the apprehensive silence to be rather unnerving, and had hoped that _someone_ would have the decency to distract people by means of a food fight or something similarly disrupting. But no, not even Bregedúr wanted to elbow me in the ribs and tell me what a dickhead I am.

I seemed to be the only one in a decent state of mind- at least until Galwen and Gloredhel showed up with two very exhilarated, rosy-cheeked little individuals who rocketed over to Glorfindel and me. With a smooth jump, they landed in our laps like rocks landing in water, nearly knocking us out of our seats. Precisely the sort of vigorous good humour I was after.

"Hello, there, progeny," I greeted them cheerfully as I straightened Tauros up on my knee. He plastered a rather damp kiss on my face and started to breathlessly tell me about the various snippets of information he had picked up about astronomy and meteorology during the night, supplemented with products of his imagination when facts were short on the ground.

"And- and Tilion takes the moon and follows Arien through the sky so that…" Tauros paused, frowning deeply as an explanation for this failed to make itself apparent. "Hm. Well, I think he is probably playing with her, but she runs faster than he does, so he never catches her."

"Why do you think Arien moves faster than he does?" I asked, softly raking my fingers through his hair and bouncing my knee a little.

"I don't think Tilion eats enough," he mused. "When Uncle Frodo doesn't eat lunch, he walks slower. I think that must be it."

"And how does _your_ belly feel after all this time without eating, hm?"

Tauros cocked his head to the side, looking pensive. "Normal, I think. But it's happier when it has cake in it."

I stifled a laugh and hoped Glorfindel had heard that, but judging by the loudness with which Taureth had been relaying the night's discoveries to him and the rest of the continent, I doubted it.

"Well, it's a little early for cake yet, but let's have a think about what we want to do for the day. Do you want a quiet day after all that excitement last night, or do you want to help in the garden?"

"Garden! Garden!" he squeaked, eyes shining ecstatically, which set off his sister. She swivelled around on Glorfindel's lap to face her brother.

"Are we going to do garden work?" she asked at a volume of roughly seven hundred decibels, quivering in much the same way Glorfindel was wont to do at the prospect of a good time.

Tauros looked up at me, which Taureth copied, and I nodded. "If you want to."

A two-person cheer that matched the loudness of a crowded football stadium emerged from these wildly euphoric children. As Glorfindel and I joined in (albeit at a much more appropriate volume for the breakfast table), it seemed to be the impetus for other people to start making noise as well. Though I was sure this wasn't the end of the awkwardness, this reprieve would do just fine for now.

§

Outside in the backyard, the four of us were joined by Elrond and Celebrían. Naturally, the adults present were in their overalls, our collective attractiveness in our garb almost too much for onlookers to bear. The only person who seemed not to be hypnotised by them was Olórin, who saw us from afar as he made tracks for Bilbo and Frodo's quarters. He stopped, pointed at us and laughed hysterically, his chortles ringing through all of Alqualondë before he got his breath back and walked away.

"Why was Olórin laughing?" Taureth asked Celebrían, who had been swinging her by her hands as we walked out to the arboretum.

"Jealousy, I do believe," Celebrían said crisply.

Glorfindel snorted, and Elrond and I bit our lips.

"Right," I said when I was capable of speaking. "Let's get started with pruning some of these trees, then. You two," I bent down to Taureth and Tauros' height now, "have the estimable job of taking what we cut and putting it into a big pile where nobody can trip, all right?"

They nodded resolutely before pausing and squinting a little.

"What's estible?" Taureth asked in some small suspicion.

"An _estimable_ job means it is big and important, and we wouldn't trust anyone else to do it as well as you do."

This was apparently a very satisfactory answer, and their chests puffed out almost reflexively. Already keen, the two of them bustled off and started collecting small twigs to deposit into a pile.

I took the hacksaw into my hand and went over to a strangely familiar-looking tree. The obovate leaves were thick and waxy, and glowed brightly in the morning sun. I stood there for a moment, trying to place where I might have seen the tree before, but I couldn't think of it. It couldn't have been in Imladris, because no tree with waxy leaves would get enough sunlight during the winter there.

Shrugging, I started to saw away at a low-lying branch, and when it fell off, I could see a white sap leaking out of the newly-formed stump.

"My god, that's liquid latex," I murmured as I dipped my finger into the stuff. "It's a rubber tree!"

No wonder I didn't recognise it. I'd seen those trees in Brazil! It must have been warm enough for them to grow year-round here.

"Celebrían!" I called to her. "You didn't tell me you had rubber trees growing here!"

"R-_what?"_ she echoed in confusion, stepping away from the tree she was hacking into and coming over to me. "What are you talking about?"

"This!" I pointed at the bleeding tree stump. "It makes liquid rubber!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"This white liquid is _life changing!"_ I half-shouted, the excited agitation growing in my voice now. I looked over to my husband. "Glorfindel! Come over! Hurry!"

He raced over, eyes wide. "What is it? Are you all right?"

"Look at this!" I slicked my finger through the white sap and held it up. "Look at it! Do you know what this is?"

He blinked . "Yes…? I have seen tree sap before, beloved."

I shook my head wildly. "No, no, no! It's rubber! Ha ha! _RUBBER!" _I let out a wild, hysterical cackle that had the other adults exchanging worried looks.

"Rhodri? Is… Are you well?" Elrond asked cautiously.

"I can't believe you don't know about this," I shrieked. "It's a sealant and an elastomer! Better than beeswax! And look at all the trees!" Cue another ecstatic laugh as I gestured at the plethora of rubber trees around us. It may seem like a silly thing to get het up over, but once you get dropped in 15th century surroundings, you realise how many modern conveniences rubber actually features in. Hello, elastic waistbands! Bouncy balls to my heart's content! Things were only going to get better from here.

I suddenly drew in a gasp. The blobbing project that I had been working on for so many years had fallen through because there wasn't enough beeswax to seal off the bouncing cushion, and wax did a poor job of sealing in the air anyway, because it wasn't flexible. Now, though, things were about to get a whole lot more exciting. The answer to my blobbing prayers had arrived at last.

"This," I said as I put my hands on Glorfindel's shoulders, "means that every household can have a blobbing cushion. Don't you see how incredible this is?"

In an almost cinematic moment, we all turned and gazed in wonder at the dripping latex, which was interrupted by Taureth reminding sternly us that we should have been hard at work at that point.

Predictably enough, we spent far more than a couple of hours in the arboretum. We still pruned as planned, but we also started tapping the rubber trees, cutting spirals into it that allowed the sap to trickle down the tree trunk like a helter skelter and into a collecting bowl. And to think my brother Oliver had made fun of me for going to the rubber plantation museum in Manaus instead of the beach! Well, wasn't _he_ going to be eating his angelic words.

After that, we set to work coating the material for a blobbing cushion with the latex we had harvested. We barely finished work in time for dinner, but as we sat down to eat, still picking bits of rubber out of our hair, I felt that it was one of the most productive days we had had, and certainly one of the most successful. Not least because the residual quietude among the diners had been torn asunder as we relayed our huge find.

Alqualonde was abuzz for the next two weeks as people came to look at the rubber, put their fingers in the tapping bowls (despite Elrond patiently asking them not to), and Erestor made a box for people to put their suggestions for its use into. That was a genius stroke on his part, really, because it meant over-confident people didn't constantly come up to the house at all hours to personally impart their opinions and plans, and because it encouraged the shy folk to share their ideas even if they didn't feel confident to speak them. Two birds, one latex stone.

Naturally, that kind of busyness had the time flying, which meant that Elrond's next session had arrived so quickly that it was almost unexpected.

Still, though, an appointment's an appointment, so amid the pleasant chaos, I somehow found myself in my office with Elrond sitting across from me.

"It's been quite a hectic couple of weeks," I said pleasantly as I opened his file. "Were you able to find the time to get that homework out of the way?"

"I was indeed," he replied as he produced, in typical Elrond fashion, a small novel's worth of papers, neat as a pin and painstakingly organised. He handed them to me with a little apprehension.

"Before I have a flick through, tell me how you found the tasks I set," I requested.

My efficient workhorse of a client's face fell a little as he let out a puff of air. "To be candid, Rhodri, it had effects that I was not anticipating," he said heavily.

"Oh?"

"Initially, I had no trouble completing the first task. Like I said during the last session, I could easily find proof that what negative aspects of myself I had listed in that column were indeed true of my personality and character. And I did. I listed them in the detail you asked for, to the criteria that you had set. And that's where it all started to go badly." He grimaced a little and gently hit his thigh with his fist in frustration.

"Tell me about it?"

The left side of his lip hitched up in disgust, and there was a silence between us for a short moment before Elrond seemed to force himself to continue.

"You'll recall that Celebrían knows about our sessions, yes?"

I nodded.

"Mm. Yes. Well, she came into my study just as I had finished that first task and she asked if she might look at it."

"To which you replied?"

"I am happy for her to read through my homework with you," Elrond shrugged. "We often have each other read and critique whatever we write."

"So what was the problem?"

"She didn't like what I wrote," he said softly.

I said nothing, waiting for him to elaborate.

With a sigh, he pushed on. "That is to say, she found what I wrote very distressing. I… I made her cry, Rhodri."

Wow. In much the same way as me, Celebrían was not inclined to get teary. I could count on the fingers of one hand I'd see her eyes grow misty, a remarkably low average when you consider how long she'd been alive.

There was a pause as Elrond squeezed his eyes tightly shut and rubbed them with his fingers. "Oh, Elbereth, I made my wife cry," he choked, curling into himself in shame.

I had to slip my hands under the table to clutch my knees. It was torture watching him so upset. I hadn't heard him invoke the name of Varda since the day Celebrían had been brought back to Imladris after being attacked. That time, he called to the Star-Kindler to get Celebrían through to the next morning, but this time, he was asking for forgiveness. It took everything in me to stay in my seat and not hug him tightly.

"Did _you_ do it personally, or was she simply reacting to what you had written?" I asked in a tone of manufactured calm.

Elrond looked up, his face quite wet now. I handed him a handkerchief as he considered my question.

"I suppose the latter of those," he said thickly, wiping his face with the handkerchief. "What difference does it make? The outcome is the same either way."

"It makes all the difference, because you are putting the blame on yourself. Think about it this way: would you have allowed Celebrían to look at the papers had you known what was going to happen?"

He shook his head hard. "No, absolutely not. I would have been more clandestine about the whole thing. She would never have known about it."

"Right. So why do you suppose reading what you wrote made her so upset?"

"She did divulge that while she was crying."

"Is it something you're willing to repeat here?"

Elrond's lips pursed a little as he swallowed hard. "She said she couldn't believe I thought so poorly of myself."

"How did it feel to hear her say that?"

"Shocking," he whispered. "I had no idea why she was crying, and when she told me the reason, I was so taken aback that I barely knew what to do with myself."

He heaved a sigh and dabbed at his eyes again. "I don't understand, Rhodri. I expend great effort to be objective about myself, and I know that it seems to diverge from how others see me, but I just cannot fathom why that is. And now I see that my perspective is making others suffer, too, and it makes me feel even more of a brute. Do… do I hurt you too, Rhodri?" Elrond watched me in near fearfulness.

"My perspective is immaterial, Elrond," I said simply. "Nobody wants their friend to labour under the false impression that they are a bad person, don't mistake me. But whatever unpleasantness that brings to me, and even to Celebrían, pales in comparison to the damage your poor opinion of yourself inflicts on _you._"

"On me?" he repeated. "Oh, no, I am quite at peace with it all."

I flipped through the sheaf of papers, scanning them quickly. "So would I be correct in understanding, then, that you are at peace with…" I looked down the page of proofs he had written. "Being 'selfish,' 'cruel,' and 'weak-willed,' among some fifteen other things that you considered to be true characteristics of yourself?"

"Well, no, of course not," Elrond replied quickly. "Those things are why I feel broken. I feel broken because I have all of these qualities, and it depresses me."

"Let's come back to that in a minute, because I would like to pick up on that again. First, though, tell me how the second homework task went. How did you find reading through those and pretending that they were written by Glorfindel?"

"Mm, that was a strange experience," he confessed. "I found it very hard to pretend that anyone but me had written that and ended up getting very little of it done."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

"There is some sort of discrepancy when I look at it as though it were for someone else."

"What kind of discrepancy would you say exists?"

"I feel like there is almost not enough context to make a judgement on someone else. I know Glorfindel is intrinsically good, so had he done those things, I would assume they were merely slip-ups in character, but they do not detract from the fact that the overwhelming majority of his behaviour is good, and thus his character is good as well."

Wow. He had almost managed to logic himself into having double standards. Cleverness, I thought to myself, is a dangerous thing sometimes.

"What sort of things does Glorfindel do that you would say fits the criterion of 'good?'"

Elrond raised an eyebrow at me. "_You're _married to him, Rhodri. I imagine you could answer the question even better than I could."

"Not at all. I wanted to know what _your_ criteria are."

Looking a little confused, he said, "Well, he is kind and gentle with your children, he appears to be a loving husband to you, helps his community, and he has always been very good to Celebrían and me…"

"What does he do for you and Celebrían?"

Elrond's other eyebrow went up, and I got the impression he thought I was laying it on a bit thick now.

"Humour me," I said with a smile. "Pretend I'm as foolish as I look and that I have no idea what constitutes good behaviour."

Making it quite clear he thought he was indulging me, Elrond elaborated.

"He… well, he always offers to help us if he thinks he can be of assistance, even when he is busy himself. He listens to us when we have concerns, comforts us in troubled times, and he seems to take great efforts to make us happy by sharing his own happiness with us. Come now, Rhodri, you know the sort of thing he does."

"Indeed I do. In any case, the things you just listed, you would say they unequivocally fit the criteria of 'good behaviour'?"

"Yes, I think so. Unless, of course, they were being used for evil ends, but that aside, certainly, they are very virtuous things."

I nodded. That was a reasonable sort of answer. "How would you classify most of _your_ behaviour, Elrond?"

A gentle frown flickered across his face. "Mine? Oh. Erm, often rather neutral, I suppose."

"What sort of things do you do that fit that description?"

His eyes widened a little, seemingly baffled that I was still flogging this apparently dead horse, but instead of waiting for me to prompt him with some sort of trite, ego-stroking request, he elaborated straight away.

"Neutral things. You know, like eating and drinking."

"Beyond basic self care, what else do you do that is neutral?"

"Oh, some gardening and building, I suppose, and spending time with Celebrían and all of you," he said airily, waving a hand as he half-rolled his eyes drolly.

"Glorfindel does exactly the same kinds of things, Elrond, and you just called them good," I pointed out. "Gardening counts as community improvement, as does building. And as for spending time with us, you and Celebrían both have provided even more parenting advice and babysitting services than Gloredhel and Galwen."

His eyes snapped back to me now.

"I want you to explain to me, if you please, exactly why the behaviours you just listed as unequivocally virtuous become neutral when _you're_ the one doing them."

Elrond said nothing. His slanted brows drew together to make an obtuse angle as he chewed on his lips. We sat in a rather pregnant silence for upwards of two minutes until finally, he murmured, "I… don't know."

I leaned over the desk and, catching his gentle grey eyes, spoke softly now.

"Elrond, what chance do you have of seeing yourself as anything but broken and full of iniquity if all the mistakes you make are automatically egregious, and all the good you do is nothing more than neutral? How could you be anything but bad in a system like that? How would _anyone_ redeem themselves with those rules?"

He looked completely overwhelmed now, and I couldn't blame him. He had just been forced to take a very hard look at the inconsistencies of the very foundations of his morals and expectations of himself. Something that had seemed rock solid all these years was suddenly shown to be moments away from collapsing. His jaw locked shut, his only response was a half-hearted shrug.

"You see now, perhaps, what I meant when I said in our last session that there was some imbalance in your opinions and expectations of yourself?"

He nodded numbly, and I beamed at him.

"What remarkable progress you're making, Elrond," I encouraged him. "Absolutely incredible. Gaining insight into flawed ways of thinking is often the hardest part of all this. And now the best part can begin!"

I couldn't help but notice a tiny glimmer of hope in his eyes now, and my smile broadened still further. Stifling a delighted laugh, I took a few gulps of water and continued.

"Therapy from here on in will involve finding and dismantling the thoughts that keep you from recognising your own deeds as equally worthy of praise as everyone else's, and that magnify your mistakes as being proof of some dangerous character flaw. It won't always be an easy path, or necessarily straightforward, but it will be worth it. Do you think you're ready to try?"

Another nod, but this one had a hint of excitement in it.

"Wonderful. Just wonderful. Well, I think that's enough for today. We'll pick up on the sessions when we return from Formenos, but I'll set you some homework in the interim."

I picked up a scrap piece of paper and started drawing and labelling a number line that went from 0-10.

"This is going to be what is called a behaviour spectrum, where 0 is egregiously bad behaviour, 5 is neutral, and 10 is exemplary, outstanding behaviour. For the next few weeks, I would like you to observe others and start making a compendium of behaviours and what sort of behavioural rank they have by your standards. An example might be, for example, eating bread, which sits at 5, or murder, an obvious zero. On the other hand, saving a life would be a 10. No need to explain why. Just list the behaviour and assign it a score. You got me?"

"Mmm," Elrond murmured in agreement, taking the piece of paper as I handed it to him.

"Jolly good. In which case, let's call it a day, shall we?"

"Right."

We stood up at the same time, and as I put Elrond's file away and locked the drawer, I heard him speak again.

"Is this why you would ask me sometimes if I wanted to speak with a psychologist, Rhodri?"

I turned around. "Goodness, I hope I didn't belabour the topic," I said in amusement.

"No, no," he said quickly. "Merely a timely reminder now and again. My word, I must have driven you to distraction, refusing to accept any help when I obviously needed it."

Chuckling, I shook my head as I walked past him out the door. "You never did anything like that. The only strong feelings I have about this are the happiness of your progress and the hope that you find the contentedness in yourself that you deserve."

A small, genuine smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"Now, I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the office, because as your friend, I would like to remind you that construction of the blobbing cushion is complete, and Glorfindel's parents are watching the children this afternoon. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Elrond laughed and nodded as he followed me out, closing the door behind him. "You find your spouse, I'll find mine, and we will make for the beach?"

"Spot on. See you in ten minutes."


	97. To read and cease to be

**Author's note: **CW for death. :'( It'll go into quite some detail. Not su*cide or self-harm. Just one of those sad, sad things. Please be gentle with yourself, get some fluids in, and remember that you are important!

**Jo: **Not natural rubber haha. It's just tree sap. The majority of rubber that we use now is synthetic rubber, which is made from petrochemicals. _That_ stuff is not eco-friendly at all, but natural rubber is fine. The only ecological issues that come from that stem from mass cultivation- like when people wipe out entire forests in SE Asia to make rubber tree plantations at the expense of the local flora and fauna. But I don't think the Elves were very big on mass cultivation, really. They never struck me as the kinds of people to build oil refineries or wipe out entire ecosystems for their own plans. The process of natural rubber cultivation and vulcanising it to make it even stretchier and bouncier is fascinating stuff, you should read about it if you get the chance!

**Mira: **I don't think it's all that difficult for them, to be honest. The Elves would be used to separating someone from their profession because they are such a small community of people that you can't have a strictly professional relationship with them and not know them personally to an extent. To help this, though, Rhodri is very different in her work capacity. She's organised, serious, and thorough, and she's also a lot calmer. Basically like Elrond at work but without the nervousness and all-consuming self-hate. Plus, she keeps things formal. No nicknames, no personal comments, hugs or hand-holding, even when the client is howling their guts out. I'm sure it's jarring to an extent, but it works well enough.

**Earthdragon: **If they can get a vulcanisation process going for the rubber, the sky's the limit. I think its main application in Valinor will end up being as a sealant, though, to be honest. That and also to make rubber grips. Really, those two things alone are enough to make life so much simpler. With that said, we know that the creation of a blobbing cushion is of primary importance, and Rhodri and Glorfindel won't shut up about it until it's a widespread public resource. Sealants and grips be damned, there's fun at stake here!

**Venus: **Ah, don't worry, Galadriel sees plenty of her daughter, but there would be a few other relatives around there as well. I'd guess that at least some of her siblings and parents were taking a break at the seaside waiting for her to show up on the boat.

§

"So, my magnificent offspring, are you ready for our big adventure tomorrow?" I asked the kids over breakfast. I made a point of doing it when they both had mouths full of fluids so they wouldn't scream.

That was a foolish idea on my part, because Taureth got the idea that it was somehow more practical to empty her mouth to vocalise by spitting her drink everywhere. And of course, she was on Glorfindel's lap facing me at the time, so Tauros and I ended up drenched.

"Well, _that_ was certainly a vehement response," I remarked casually as I wiped apple juice and spit out of the eyes of myself and a totally baffled Tauros using a dry patch on my sleeve. "I'll take it as a yes, I think."

When I looked up, Taureth and and Glorfindel had the same shocked expression on their faces, their mouths agape and sparkling blue eyes as big as dinner plates.

"You'll want to be careful leaving your mouths open that wide," I murmured, now seriously amused as I stood up with Tauros. "A fly might just buzz right in."

Taureth clapped her hands over her mouth, and Glorfindel's lips went together so fast I could hear them hit each other.

Once I had de-juiced and re-clothed Tauros and me, I went and handed the elder twin to Glorfindel so the three of them could pack for tomorrow, and quickly hurried off to the clinic, now running a little late to meet Galadriel.

When I reached the corridor where my office was, I saw the Elf of the hour waiting for me outside with a rather entertained expression on her face.

"Sorry about the delay, Galadriel," I said as I unlocked the door.

Galadriel laughed a little. "No apology needed. I passed by the dining hall just in time to watch your daughter's… outburst, shall we say. I had anticipated a short wait."

I suppressed a snort and invited Galadriel to enter my office, closing the door behind me as I followed her in.

"I haven't seen much of you the last couple of weeks," I said with a smile, taking out her file and pouring her a glass of water. "How have things been?"

"Quiet, actually," she mused as she took the water and sipped at it thoughtfully. "Reflective."

"Is that in any connection with the homework I gave you?"

"Mmm."

Aha. So it was going to be another pulling teeth day. One that came from a long, long line of days that had been very much the same with Galadriel.

"Well, let's go through the first task together. Tell me about the letter I asked you to write to Celeborn."

"What about it?"

That threw me off a little. "W- well, did you do it?"

"Oh yes, of course I did."

"Right. Okay. So, where is it?"

Now it was Galadriel's turn to look at me in confusion. "You didn't say I had to bring it with me," she said blankly.

I dove through my memories to try and recall what I said to her, and from what I could dredge up, it seemed she was right: I hadn't specifically said that she was to bring the completed homework to the session, but I thought it had been implied. Everyone else I'd ever seen had interpreted my meaning as a task they completed outside of the office and brought back next session for review.

"N-no, I didn't, that's true. My apologies, I thought it was assumed that you would bring it in for me to look through with you."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You wanted to read it?"

"Ideally, yes, but of course, you never have to do or share things that you don't want to."

"There were quite a few personal things in the letter," she murmured.

"That's fine," I said with a nod. "Are there any parts of the letter you're happy enough to divulge now?"

Galadriel shook her head.

I frowned inwardly. She'd made an explicit comment about her sex life in front of me before. What could be more personal than that? I chalked it up to a weird fetish or that she was terrified I'd think her sentimental, and put the thought out of my mind before any horrifying imagery regarding the former of these could be evoked.

"Not to worry. Well, how about that second exercise? The list of things you like and dislike about yourself, Celeborn, and your relationship? How did that go?"

Galadriel squinted at me a moment before she appeared to remember that I had anticipated her sharing at least some information about her homework with me.

"Ah, it went well. I didn't bring that, either."

"Are you uncomfortable disclosing anything about what you wrote for that one?"

She nodded. Naturally, she was completely at liberty to refuse to divulge anything she wanted,, and I didn't have an issue with her exercising that. I'd be lying, though, if it didn't make my job a little harder. What _would _she be willing to disclose if not those sorts of basic relationship things?

"That's fine. We'll leave that, then. Tell me a little bit about what you meant when you said that the last couple of weeks have been reflective for you."

A rather faraway look came over Galadriel's face, and she turned her gaze to the window behind me.

"Celeborn and I have been together since I was… mmm… around a hundred and forty years, I suppose. And now, I am almost seven thousand two hundred. The time where we were not together is so nominal that I scarcely can imagine what it was like."

"How do you feel when you consider how long you have been together?"

"The awareness of great lengths of time passing is never far from the thoughts of the Elves, Rhodri," Galadriel replied serenely.

"I'm aware," I said with a chuckle. "That didn't answer the question, though. All you said then was that you notice it frequently. What feelings does thinking about the length of your relationship evoke?"

The absent expression was as plain as ever on her face, but I knew that underneath, the hamster was running extra fast in the wheel. Whether it was nerves or an unwillingness to speak, I wasn't sure. What I did know was that this session wasn't getting anywhere.

"You know, Galadriel," I said after a rather long pause, "it's all right to not be ready for therapy. Or to be ready to discuss things. My suggestion of therapy was merely that: a suggestion. I will still speak with Celeborn as you asked, irrespective of how much help you seek from me."

Galadriel's eyes moved to me now, and her expression seemed to fill with emotion. As she went to say something, I heard shrill, blood-curdling screams coming from down on the ground near my window, and the noise almost made my heart stop. They were coming from my children.

Seized by sheer panic, I didn't so much as acknowledge Galadriel's presence when I got up and bolted from the office. The sound of their wailing started to fill the air now, and people in the corridors leapt out of the way as I shot past them. In my haste, I even ran into some Elves who didn't move aside fast enough, knocking them roughly to the ground and sending them skidding some metres across the polished wooden floors.

When I made it out to the patch of grass where the sound was coming from, I saw Glorfindel squatting down with them, gently rubbing their backs. Their cries had me in a mixture of panic and confusion, the latter of which was cleared up when I reached them and saw that Bilbo, our ancient master storyteller, was lying stock-still on the ground.

"Rhodri, he's…" Glorfindel whispered as another wail of despair from Tauros pierced the air.

I picked Tauros up and held him close to me, humming quietly in his ear and telling him to keep his eye on the house behind us and to try counting the windows. Stooping down, I carefully turned Bilbo over, I saw his nose looked a little crooked, and there was a trickle of blood coming out of it. I went to check for a pulse and found that his skin was already cold, and the pulse was accordingly nonexistent.

My skin started to crawl as I put two and two together: Bilbo must have been seated on the bench behind him, leaning forward to speak to the children, and then, quick as a flash, simply gone on to that strange place where my family was now, tipping forward off his seat and breaking his nose on the ground in the process. I glanced over at Glorfindel, and he seemed to have had the same thoughts.

The noise of Tauros and Taureth's crying had barely softened as Glorfindel, snuggling Taureth to him in a similar way, had her help her brother in counting the windows. Unsurprisingly, though, it had attracted some attention, and we heard Elrond and Celebrían approaching us.

"Rhodri? Glorfindel? What on earth was all-"  
"Oh, no…"

I swivelled around to face them, turning Tauros around in my arms as I did so to allow him to keep watching the house. Their faces had lost a little colour, but they were calm and unshaken.

"I think he died in front of Taureth and Tauros," I said in a shaky voice. "If you two stay with him," I pointed at Elrond and Celebrían now, "Glorfindel and I will go and get Olórin and Frodo. We'll stay inside after that and try to calm the children. Come and get us if you need anything."

They nodded, and Glorfindel and I, both hugely rattled by the whole thing, trudged our way up to the communal room where we knew we would find Olórin and Frodo at this time of the day.

The twins' distressed sobs hadn't remitted, which at least saved us having to knock on the door to get the attention of the room's occupants. They both looked up sharply.

"Goodness, you two, what on earth did you say to those children that they are so ups-" began Olórin with an almost wry smile that vanished as Glorfindel and I shook our heads.

"Nothing like that, I'm afraid," I said- well, more _forced_ out. "Frodo, Olórin, we're so sorry, but we need you to come with us. Leave your books," I added as Frodo stood up with a novel in one hand.

The two of them exchanged a worried glance, and I think in their heart of hearts they knew what had happened. As if by instinct, each reached for the other's hand, and they followed us to the backyard, out to where Elrond and Celebrían stood with their heads bowed.

"Bilbo," Frodo murmured in a terrified voice, letting go of Olórin's hand and running over to his uncle as fast as he could.

Olórin, however, stood stock-still, his eyes filling to the brim with water.

"_Go to him, Olórin," _I whispered, giving him a gentle nudge that eased him into a walk. "_Be with him a little longer."_ Barely noticing the pressure, Olórin fell into step almost unconsciously and walked over to Bilbo in a daze. I called out to Elrond, who turned around to look at me, and when he saw me jerk my head in Olórin's direction, he gave me a nod and loped over to the wizard, placing a hand around his shoulder and gently guiding him over.

"Let's get out of here," I said quietly to Glorfindel.

"No!" screamed Taureth. "Uncle Bilbo's very hurt! We can't leave him now!"

Tauros had nothing to contribute apart from continued crying.

"No, no, darling, Uncle Bilbo isn't hurt. He isn't in any pain at all, I promise," I assured her, stroking her cheek with a finger as I bounced an inconsolable Tauros. I was astonished how they seemed to know something was very wrong, even if they had no explanation.

"Let's go inside and we'll explain what's going on," Glorfindel said gently, but that seemed to set the twins off, and they started keening at the top of their lungs now. We quickly took them inside and up to our quarters so that the noise didn't disturb the other mourners as much, and sat on one of the couches together.

It took quite a long period of rocking and singing before we could get the kids to calm down enough to listen to us. They were never really meant to see death, especially not of natural causes, but it was clear they hadn't simply explained Bilbo's strange behaviour as sleep. They knew it was something else.

"Do you remember that talk we had about your Nana and Grandad?" I asked them. "How they're a long way away and we won't be able to spend time with them for a while yet?"

They nodded.

"Bilbo had to leave to go to that place, too."

"He's gone away?" Tauros choked, moments away from erupting into another howling fit as his silvery little eyes leaked like a hose.

"Yes, he has," Glorfindel confirmed gently, wiping Tauros' face with his sleeve.

"No he hasn't! He's outside!" shouted Taureth in frustration. "If we could just go outside and fix his nose, he might not have to go away!"

Tauros gasped. "If we hurt our noses, will we go away, too?"

That question sent the children into another wave of unrestrained terror as they clapped their hands over their noses as they shrieked in fright, and it took several attempts on our part to get their attention.

"That won't happen!" I said above the din, which quietened them. "Injuring your nose won't make you go anywhere. Bilbo wasn't there any more by the time that happened."

"Yes he was!" Taureth insisted. "He's still outside right now!"

"No, darling, that's just his body now. He doesn't need that any more. His body fell over because he didn't have anything in it to keep it awake any more. The part of him that made his body awake and moving was the part that went on to meet Nana and Grandad."

They squinted, looking dissatisfied with this explanation.

"The body is like a hat, you see," I elaborated. "You don't need a hat all the time, do you?"

They shook their heads.

"Only when you're going outside in the sun," Tauros murmured.

"Right. And what do you do when you're wearing your hat and you come inside?"

"Take it off and give it to you."

"Exactly. We need our bodies to live here, because it's like being outside. But Bilbo got called to where Nana and Grandad are, which is like being inside, so he left his body here and went away."

Taureth and Tauros nodded slowly, seeming to understand as they lowered their hands now.

Frowns spread over their faces as Taureth said, "Well, why did he have to go now? We were right in the middle of a story. He didn't say anything at all."

"He didn't have a choice," Glorfindel said as he pat her back in a slow, comforting rhythm. "He had to go as soon as he was called."

Taureth looked at her father like that was the most unreasonable request that had ever been put to someone. "Even in the middle of story time?"

"Even then," he said with a nod.

The two of them sat in silence for a little while, very displeased indeed. Gradually, though, a resigned air seemed to settle over them.

"I miss Uncle Bilbo," Tauros murmured quietly. Taureth nodded in agreement, and Glorfindel and I snuggled them close to us.

"So do we," Glorfindel said, his voice cracking a little.

"He can see us from where he is now, so you can still say hello. You just won't be able to hear him speak back," I said to the two of them. "It won't be the same without Uncle Bilbo's stories, though, will it?" They shook their heads sadly.

"But you know," I continued, "until we do see Uncle Bilbo next, we have a lot of lovely memories with him to look back over and enjoy. And then when we see him again, we can start making new ones."

"When will we see him?" Tauros asked.

"Not for a while yet," Glorfindel replied. "We have a lot to do here first."

The twins sighed in synchrony, looking defeated.

"I have an idea," I said after a moment. "Let's have a think about some of our favourite things we did with Uncle Bilbo and write them down. You remember how much he loved books. He'd love that we're thinking of him and writing stories just like he did."

That got the first smile out of them in ages, and I was relieved. Truth be told, I was extremely worried that seeing Bilbo fall over dead had traumatised the children, but at least from what I could see for now, they had grasped the concept pretty well, and had come to accept it.

We spent the rest of the afternoon drawing and writing on sheets of paper. The children drew page after page of pictures of them with Bilbo, each corresponding to a memory they had with him, and Glorfindel and I captioned the pictures with their explanations for future reference. We two filled up quite a few pages ourselves with notes of exceptionally fun times we had had together with the remarkable Hobbit.

As Glorfindel and I watched Taureth and Tauros happily share so many joyful moments, I shuffled a little closer to him and rested a hand on his knee. I could feel my throat ache as I observed for myself the delight he had given our kids by sharing his time with them so generously. I hadn't realised how deep my well of gratitude could go until that point. Bilbo had always been a lovely sort, and I always appreciated his kindness toward me, but his going above and beyond for my children had me humbled and indebted to him in a way I hadn't experienced before. As I heard Glorfindel's breaths get shallower, I was sure he was thinking the same thing.

§

The mood at the dinner table was very sombre that evening. The usual lively chatter had been extinguished; even the ruckus Taureth and Tauros were wont to make took a back seat. The only traces of conversation came up when someone could bring themselves to make a comment about funeral plans. Frodo, who looked like someone had taken a bomb to his emotional foundations, eventually said that it should be an Elven-style burial, a process that a fascinated Bilbo had written about while he had been on his own adventures all those years ago. That, as far as we were concerned, was the last word on it, and so it was set.

In the lead-up to the funeral, which was to occur the next day, Bilbo had been washed and dressed in his finest clothes, and he was shrouded in cloths of linen and silk. It had been decided that he was to be buried under the huge tree near the bench he so loved to occupy on a sunny day. The sole deviation from the proceedings involved the wake: as per Hobbit protocol, there was to be a slap-up lunch afterwards, with joyful music playing in celebration of a life that had been very well lived indeed. That was a very welcome alternative to the hours of mournful singing the Elves were usually wont to do when someone had died, I had to say.

Our travel plans were understandably delayed a little by this sudden turn of events. Nobody objected to the idea of putting it off for a couple of days so that we could say our last goodbyes to the extraordinary Bilbo.

And it certainly was a busy funeral. A surprising number of people had turned out for it. It seemed that Bilbo had had quite the impact on the local community, judging by the crowd that surrounded the burial plot that had been dug out for him. Using a long, white sheet, Frodo, Olórin, Elrond, and I lowered his body gently into the grave as the sweet, sad music the attendees sang tinged the air with misery. It seemed to completely juxtapose the happy, sunny day that we'd been blessed with.

After several short eulogies had been given, everybody got into a line to stand at the graveside and farewell Bilbo. I offered to take Tauros from Glorfindel so he could pay his respects alone, but Tauros insisted on having a turn as well.

"Goodbye for now, Uncle Bilbo! We'll take good care of your body here and say hello to you every day!" Tauros said into the grave before taking a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolding it. "I drew you a picture of us so you have something to think of while you wait for us! I'll put it in here so you don't lose it!" With that, he let the picture go and it floated down into the hole and landed neatly on top of the tiny, swaddled figure at the bottom.

That was unexpected, to say the least. Throughout this entire thing, the children had been exemplars of good behaviour. Appropriately quiet, dropping their voice to a whisper if they needed anything, and otherwise sitting still and watching on. I hadn't realised Tauros had taken anything with him, and he'd done it all so quickly that none of us had the chance to stop him. My eyes wide in horror, I looked over to Frodo and was about to apologise profusely, but thank god, he was smiling and laughing.

Taureth had also prepared a drawing, and I later found out that she and Tauros had made an agreement between themselves to each give Bilbo a picture. It was at this point I realised they had learned how to team up and make plans without their parents, which was going to herald in a _very_ interesting new stage in life. When she had supplied her drawing and faithfully promised Bilbo that she would relay the day's news to him every evening before bedtime, she marched back to me, looking very satisfied indeed.

When I went over to him by myself, I found I had a remarkable shortage of words. What did I say to someone who had enthralled me with stories I couldn't hope to recall with half the appeal or eloquence, who was an exceptional client, and who had been eternally patient and sweet with my children?

"Thank you, Bilbo," was what I said. "Thank you so very, very much."

§

The wake went on until late into the night. I doubted very much that it was as lively as it would have been had the attendees mostly been Hobbits, but to be fair, the whole death and dying business was very foreign to the Elves, so looking on the brighter side of things was a rather tall order for them.

Luckily, there was middle ground: reminiscing. Everybody had a story or two about the finer qualities of the elder Mr. Baggins, and it had a terrific way of bringing everybody together.

"Just what Bilbo would have wanted, I think," I remarked to Glorfindel as we perched on one of the many couches set up around the room for the event, observing the goings-on around us. To the left of Glorfindel was Galadriel, who was in conversation with Celebrían and Elrond. The children were on the ground in front of us, drawing pictures to go into "the Bilbo Book," as they had named the collection of stories and pictures they had collated, which to be a present they gave to him when next we saw him.

Glorfindel nodded gently. "Mmm," he said quietly, turning to look at me. A tiny, sad smile was on his face.

I reached my arm out and put it around his shoulder, drawing him close to me.

"How are you, hmm?" I asked, dropping my voice to a lower volume.

"It was not wholly unexpected, but it hurts all the same. He was so good to the children..." He heaved a sigh. "To be truthful, I am quite tired. I would love to sleep right now."

"Go on, then," I said with an encouraging nod. "Get some rest."

"I don't want to leave you alone with both the children tonight," Glorfindel said as he shook his head. "You must be tired as well."

"A little, but not in the same way," I shrugged. "Let's make a compromise, then. Stay up for a short while longer, and when the wake is finished, we'll all go to bed. You can sleep, I'll read to the sprouts, and if I need anything, I'll wake you. How does that sound?"

"You have a solution to everything," he murmured as he snuggled into me. "I adore you."

I snuck a quick kiss onto his head and held him a little tighter. "I adore you right back."

I had apparently not snuck the kiss on, though, because the eyes of Galadriel flicked onto me for a moment before looking away.

We stayed until most of the attendees had left, mostly for Olórin's sake, as he had been very close to Bilbo. Though he had taken Bilbo's death very well overall, I didn't imagine he was especially keen to be alone that evening. Eventually, though, the only people left were the people who lived in Earendil's house.

"Will you two be all right tonight?" I asked Olórin and Frodo. "I have some sleeping tincture you can have to get through the evening if you like?"

They both shook their heads.

"No, I think I will sleep well enough tonight, thank you, Rhodri," Frodo said, a little numb but composed all the same.

"I think I will spend the evening in Lórien, myself, but I appreciate the offer," Olórin murmured with a serene nod.

"Come and get me from our quarters if you change your minds, all right?"

They both nodded and went in their separate directions, as did we.

After readying ourselves for bed, I took Taureth and Tauros into the library to choose a few books to read together. Back in bed, the four of us huddled together, and as Glorfindel drifted off and I started to read the story of Bill the Pony (written by Uncle Frodo and co-authored by Uncle Bilbo), the world felt almost unchanged for a brief, blissful moment.


	98. In which the road is hit

**Beverly:** Hard to say, really. Rhodri doesn't get much of a look-in with the younger Mr. Baggins, since he was spending all his time with Gandalf and Bilbo. He's certainly improved, but Frodo didn't have the easiest life to begin with. Losing Bilbo would have been very hard on him. I'm hoping doing what he does in this chapter will ease things up for the poor devil.

**Amil: **Ah, you know, some people just aren't ready to get help, even when they think they are. Folks are complicated like that. Sometimes all it takes is a little patience and encouragement to wake them up, and others need to get a wake-up call. I don't think she is intentionally being difficult, though. I think she's afraid and embarrassed. Oh, Galadriel. What are we going to do with you?

** : **I guess you could read the above comment for part of my answer, but I do agree with you that a lot of her personality beyond the most obvious good points goes unexplored. The only thing we really get a mention of is that she's a rather arrogant, hot-headed type whose tendencies to act out temper with age. But, yanno, a personality's a personality, and traits don't die off that hard, especially not if you still indulge them somehow, and Galadriel certainly does.

**Earthdragon: **To be honest with you, I was a little afraid the kids would end up with some scarring and that Rhodri would have to take them to Este, but in all, I think they coped very well. The scariest bit, I imagined, would be watching that sudden loss of control in the moments where Bilbo fell forward and didn't break the fall by putting his arms out, leading to the injury. I think the grief setting in will catch up a little later, though, when they start enquiring about why they can't see Bilbo right now, that sort of thing. Poor little mites. :(

**Yolo2002liveforever: **Oh thanks so much mate! That's really nice of you! Out of curiosity, how long did it take you to read it all? I keep trying to read from start to finish in one go but I get so easily distracted that it just doesn't work. :P

§

We spent another four days in Alqualondë, which gave me ample time to check on everybody. Well, almost everybody. Frodo ended up running after Olórin, I later found out, and the two of them made for the Gardens of Lorien. They didn't come back before we left. Glorfindel and Elrond both seemed to be coping fine, as did Celebrían, and, to my continued relief, the children seemed to be handling everything well.

With that said, though, that didn't come without an onslaught of questions first, which was to be expected. There was always an onslaught of questions from Taureth and Tauros, really. They seemed to be endowed with insatiable appetites for knowledge, and I caught myself hoping more than once that my parents had enjoyed answering my endless queries as much as Glorfindel and I liked doing it for our own children. Not just because it was a pleasant experience- it certainly was, but I hoped that with sufficient answers, they would process the entire incident in a way that didn't make it a sore spot in future.

"Are we going to die one day, too?" Taureth asked in fascination, pushing herself and her brother past the hundredth question mark in the last half hour.

"Well, yes, one day, but not for a very long time yet. We will live as long as the world does," Glorfindel replied with a half-nod.

"How long is the world going to live?" Tauros piped up now.

"I don't know. I don't think anyone does except Iluvatar," he said, frowning a little as he pondered the question.

"When we die, are we going to hurt our noses, too?"

"No idea," I shrugged. "We aren't going to be there to find out. We'll be too busy with Nana and Grandad and Uncle Bilbo to care what's going on there."

"But what about our bodies?" Tauros asked, eyes wide.

I paused for a moment. I had no clue if we got new flesh-and-bone bodies with Iluvatar or not. My family didn't seem to have that, but could that have been an administrative error?

Fortunately, Glorfindel came through with a terrific answer that was not specific, but answered the question all the same.

"We'll have all the body we need when we get there, don't you worry," he said with a smile. "You'll be able to do everything you usually do, and more."

Taureth heaved a sigh of relief. "Good," she declared in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'll need my eyes to read our stories to Uncle Bilbo."

"You need to learn to read first," I reminded her.

"I can already do that," she said, shaking her head dismissively. "So can Tauros." She pointed at her brother now, who beamed and nodded.

Glorfindel and I squinted a little and looked at each other.

"When you say you can read," he began slowly, "Do you mean you know the words to some of the books off by heart?"

"Ada," Taureth enunciated clearly, sounding like she was ten and not nearly three years of age, "we can _read_." She put huge emphasis on the last word and pinched her fingers together like she was about to bring them to her lips to do a chef's kiss.

I stood up and retrieved a book about local plants in the area and took it back over. Sitting back down with them, I opened the book to a random page and passed it to them.  
"Can you read that sentence there for me?" I requested, pointing at a line in the middle of the book.

The kid took the book and moved her tiny index finger across the line as she read effortlessly.

"_The Mallorn is a large tree that is native to Valinor, but has spread to Middle-Earth, where it grows in the western parts of the continent. _What's a continent?"

"A big bit of land," I croaked, absolutely floored now. I had been reading before I started school, but not at two-and-a-half. I supposed, though, that development could be significantly more advanced because they never slept. Even so, though, this was remarkable.

"What about you, kiddo?" I turned to Tauros now. "Can you pick up where Taureth left off?"

The elder twin took the book and proceeded to read the next sentence with the same fluency as his sister had.

"_The leaves of the Mallorn are frequently used to pack rations of lembas, and the bark has been known to be processed into hithlain, a strong but silky textile used in clothing and rope."_

Glorfindel and I swapped another glance, and I saw that Glorfindel's face was white now.

"_Good god, are you all right?" _I asked him via the ol' telebrain network, searching his eyes worriedly while the children took turns reading sentences aloud.

"_We need to curate that bookcase," _Glorfindel replied. Even his inner voice was weedy.

I blinked. What on earth was on those shelves that needed to be kept out of the reach of children? Drug paraphernalia hidden in fake books? A stash of Elven pornography? Or, god forbid, true crime novels? The curiosity was eating away at me.

"_What's in the bookcase that they shouldn't be seeing?"_

"_I'll explain later. Just look through the book with them for now and I'll quickly sort out the shelves, all right?"_

I shrugged, nodded, and went back to looking at the page on Mallorn trees with Taureth and Tauros, asking them questions about the trees and making them look through the page to find the answer. That kept them happily busy, and I started wondering if they shouldn't be starting some sort of formal education, something I would bring up with Erestor at lunch that day.

Meanwhile, Glorfindel was grabbing books from all over the shelf and flicking through them before either reshelving them or sticking them under his arm.

When he had finished looking through, he took the books that he'd removed and disappeared into our bedroom with them. He rejoined us twenty seconds later, dusting off his hands and looking rather pleased with himself.

"_So at what later point will I get to find out what you had to hide?"_ I enquired as politely as I could.

"_Oh, shouldn't be too much longer now-_ Well done, Taureth! You read that sentence very nicely!" Glorfindel beamed at our daughter encouragingly, and she absorbed the praise like a sponge, her chest puffing up as Tauros pat her back with a broad smile.

§

"Are you two all right?" Gil-Galad asked Glorfindel and me over lunch. Erestor, always keen for news about others' goings-on, looked up from his fruit salad. "You both look a little… on edge. Especially you, Glorfindel." Gil-Galad waved his fork at Glorfindel.

"We just found out the children can read," Glorfindel said quietly, jerking his head over at the children, who were lying on the floor some metres away drawing what appeared to be letters on the paper we had given them.

"God, and they can write, too," I whispered in disbelief.

Elrond and Celebrían looked over their shoulders now to the children and then turned back.

"Goodness, you're right," she murmured.

"They also appear to be quite adept at making plans between themselves without consulting us," I continued in a small squeak.

"Perhaps _now_ you understand the concerns I used to have about leaving you and Glorfindel alone," Elrond said with relish, looking like he had been waiting to trot that out for centuries.

"'_Used_ to have?'" I replied in a playfully scornful tone. "I hadn't realised that was a thing of the past."

"Well, I like to think I've become inured to your foolishness now."

A laugh escaped me before I could stop myself, and I saw Celebrían bite her lip as she leaned backwards out of Elrond's periphery, attempting to conceal her mirth.

"Need I remind you, Mr. Paragon of Relaxation, that only three days ago when Glorfindel and I were out blobbing in the sea that you screeched at us all the way from your _balcony_ to bounce more carefully?"

Elrond scowled and rolled his eyes as he took a piece of melon and popped it in his mouth.

"Anyway, the point of all this is that the children can read, and now we have to brace ourselves for nonstop mischief potential," I continued, trying to steer the conversation back on topic.

"Yes, I'm afraid we can't relate there," Celebrían said thoughtfully as she drummed her fingernails against her teeth. "We were always able to run the children ragged through the day, and that tired them out enough that they slept through the night. I don't suppose that is an option for you, though, is it?"

"They don't even run out of breath," Glorfindel confirmed, shaking his head wearily.

"What about tiring them out mentally?" Erestor piped up.

I frowned a little. "I would have thought at this age that they would be tired out by learning about their new surroundings, but maybe it's been a little slow for them. I was going to talk to you about their education, actually, Erestor. Do you still do tutoring these days?"

Erestor smiled broadly. "I thought you'd never ask. When we come back from Formenos, let's organise some sort of schedule. We can start in blocks of an hour or two if they're able to read and write, and we'll see how they fare with that."

I was surprised by the length of the lessons he was offering, but as I looked over and heard the children asking each other how to spell words like "continent," I realised maybe he had a point. Naturally, Glorfindel and I accepted straight away, and that was that.

§

The next morning, we were out on the open road, pursuing adventure with the wind at our backs. That always sounds nice in theory, but it was, in practice, a bitch, because it sent metre-long mops of Elven hair flying around like someone had slipped a stick of dynamite in a haystack. Cursing, everybody quickly put their hair into braids and proceeded.

Quite a few people ended up wanting to come to Formenos. All the Lords of Gondolin, Elrond, Celebrían, Gil-Galad and Erestor, and even Bregedúr and Daereth were keen for the trip. We were also accompanied by a number of Elves who had been planning to travel to Tirion.

"What do you think it will be like?" Glorfindel asked nobody in particular around four-fifths of the way there. It was the question that, remarkably enough, nobody had broached over the few weeks we had been riding- and this is keeping in mind we were travelling with children who had more questions than a talk show host that had OD'd on caffeine.

"What was it like just before it was emptied?" I asked.

"A smaller version of Tirion, I believe," Ecthelion replied, crinkling his chin a little as he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Fëanor and his hangers-on were only there for some fifty years before Melkor came and slew Finwë at the front doors, and then, of course, the whole disaster with the Simarils started, so the place was abandoned."

"I suppose with Fëanor's talents for craft and eye for beauty, it would be quite a beautiful place irrespective of size," Turgon mused, to which everybody murmured some sort of agreement.

"Well, certainly if Caranthir's little house he built for himself in Alqualondë was anything to go by, I'm sure two-and-some years of restoration time would be enough for him and a few others to fix up the place quite nicely," I added. He had done a terrific job on that little house, and on all the furniture inside, too, when I thought about it.

"Do you think we will even be welcome in the city?" Glorfindel said to me.

I shrugged. "Hard to say. Caranthir has changed a lot, so I hope his newly-found good humour has stuck with him over the years. What the other residents will think, however, is something I'm less sure about."

"Ah, and to think I thought you and Bregedúr brought your hammers with you because you liked them, not because you feared we might be met with hostility," Rog lamented, playful melodrama jam-packed into every word.

"Can't it be both?" Bregedúr replied with a grin that I replicated as we gave each other a knowing look.

Rog snorted.

"In all seriousness, though," I continued, "I don't actually know what sort of greeting we can anticipate when we arrive, if any, so I'd like to go ahead a little and scope the place out before the rest of you come in range of it." I glanced down at Taureth, who was sitting in front of me, holding the reins. She turned around and wordlessly raised an eyebrow at me, a look I had a sneaky feeling she'd learned from Uncle Elrond and Auntie Celebrían.

"Is there a problem, dearly loved progeny?" I enquired casually.

"You can't go ahead without me, Mummy," she informed me.

"I see. And why would that be?" I wondered to myself if this made for the beginnings of the separation anxiety phase that many children went through, but that theory was put to rest rather quickly upon hearing her response.

"You're not very good at talking to people, really, Mummy."

I watched her blankly. "What do you mean?"

Taureth fixed me with a withering look, clearly not paid enough to do the hard job of raising her mother and teaching her things.

"Look at what happened with Uncle Rog the day he arrived with the other uncles. You came in, sat down, and the first thing you said to him was you wanted to fight with him." Her other eyebrow went up now. "You can't just _fight_ people, Mummy. You need to say hello and ask them how they are. But you don't remember things very well, either, so I should go with you to remind you."

Snorts rippled through the crowd, but my daughter's face was resolute.

"Tell you what, kiddo, I'll write down your instructions on a piece of paper to take with me, save you the work of having to constantly remind me." I reached into my backpack and pulled out a pen and paper.

"Now, number one is don't fight. Number two, say hello… and what was number three?" I asked her again as I jotted the words down.

"Ask them how they are," she supplied helpfully.

"_How… they… are._ Got it." I nodded. "Right. Well, I'll keep that on me and head over for a look now, then."

I picked Taureth up and handed her to Bregedúr. "Keep an eye on the younger heir for me, would you?" I requested, slipping off my own horse and patting its withers amiably. As I began to say toodle-pip to everyone, Taureth cut me off.

"You've still got your hammer with you."

"They might need help with construction," I replied with a shrug. "Besides, it's always handy to have in case of emergency." The smile I gave her was returned with a suspicious squint. No pleasing some people. With a smile and a wave, I jogged off, wishing I'd gotten Olórin to show me how to do that fabulous teleportation trick when we went to visit Irmo together.

As I picked up speed and shot along the path, my Taureth-approved interaction guidelines in hand, I turned my mind back to the questions that had gone unanswered over the last hour. What _would_ Formenos be like? And, more to the point, what would Caranthir be like?

I wasn't especially worried if Caranthir had turned out to have fallen into bad ways again. Had he given me even the smallest hint of danger, I would have sent Glorfindel home with the children and dealt with Caranthir myself. Even so, though, I thought to myself, it would have been terribly disappointing if that were the case. He seemed to have made such progress.

I ended up spending so much time shipwrecked in my own head that I failed to realise that a short while later, I was standing in front of what was a very impressive sight indeed. Perched up on the hills was a generous, beautiful fortress made of deep red marble. Ecthelion was right in that it was smaller than Tirion- quite a bit smaller, but at a glance, there would have been enough space for two thousand people or so, which was more people than were living in Imladris by the time we left.

From where I was, about a kilometre away, it looked like a pretty pleasant sort of place all in all. There was farming in the lush land around it and people tended the crops quite happily. There were signs of industry in the place, with a few cheerily puffing chimney stacks, but it didn't look like anyone was staging mass production of any one thing. No, at first blush, it had every appearance of being a thriving little fortress town in the north of Valinor.

"So far, so good," I murmured as I loped over to what appeared to be the front gate, which was guarded by a pair of black-haired Elves. The woman had eyes as green as lily pads, and the man's were the colour of steel. Both sets of these striking eyes were on me like tracker beams, and they whipped out their swords in synchrony as I approached.

I showed the palms of my hands in a peacekeeping gesture.

"Good afternoon," I said with a smile.

"Who are you?" asked the woman suspiciously, holding her sword a little higher.

"Look at her ears," the man murmured to her.

My smile broadened as I touched a hand to one. "They're nice, aren't they?"

The guards looked at each other a moment in confusion before turning back to me.

"Anyway, though, that's neither here nor there. My name i- oh!" I cut myself off mid-sentence as I glanced beyond them and saw a familiar face talking to a very tall, auburn-haired figure. "Caranthir!" I waved at him to get his attention. Both the redhead and Caranthir turned around, and the latter's face broke out in a smile. A genuine one, no less.

"Oh, Rhodri!" he called back, raising his hand in greeting as he approached the gate. "So my plan worked! Excellent, excellent."

Caranthir flicked his fingers up and down a little at the guards to make them lower their weapons. "She and her kin are welcome here," he said to them calmly, and the two of them nodded their understanding and adopted a more at ease position that didn't involve holding pointy things in my direction.

"Awfully kind of you, Caranthir," I said gratefully. "What, ah, plan is it that you've had in place, then?"

"Oh! It was really quite ingenious, if I do say so myself," he said with smug satisfaction. "I never was pardoned by King Olwë, which was fair, but it made things damned difficult when it came to getting an invitation over to you to come and see Formenos."

"So you thought you'd bring me here by curiosity, did you?" I replied, raising an eyebrow in wry amusement.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Well, yes and no," I wobbled my head from side to side a little. "Some people visiting us in Alqualondë were rather concerned by the mass exodus of Noldorin from Tirion, and the message 'ask Rhodri,' had _them_ wondering more than me." I chuckled a little. "I was quite sure you'd have no trouble getting the place up and running again, but it seems your invitation was just cryptic enough to get people wondering whether something treacherous was afoot."

Caranthir burst out laughing now. "Oh, it couldn't be further from the truth. Formenos is thriving like it never had before, and there is nothing but healing and learning going on within the city's walls. Come in, won't you, and I and my brother Maedhros here," he gestured at the redhead he'd been talking with, who stood politely a few metres away and gave me a friendly wave which I returned, "can give you the grand tour."

"Ah, I won't be able to come in just yet."

"Oh?" Caranthir watched me curiously. "Do you need something?"

"Well, like I said before, those people who were concerned- the Lords of Gondolin, to be precise- weren't wholly convinced when I said there was probably nothing to worry about here, so they've ridden out with me, along with Elrond, Celebrían, Bregedúr, Gil-Galad, Erestor, Glorfindel, and my two children."

"Goodness, you have children!" he murmured in surprise, his sharp eyes widening a little.

"Oh, yes," I replied sunnily. "They arrived not long after you left. Quite the enchanting individuals, though I say it myself."

"Your company must think you very sure that I am reformed to be bringing them along," he remarked, looking buoyed by the vote of confidence

"You certainly struck me as genuine, and I'm extremely hard to fool," I said with a cheerful shrug. "Though I suppose I should add the disclaimer, since we meet on slightly more personal terms this time, that I am extremely protective of said children- and the rest of the group as well, when it comes down to it. I am not afraid to use my strength to its full force as a means of protecting them, so if you suspect any loose cannons around the place who might give them trouble, I would appreciate the warning in advance."

Caranthir nodded. "More than fair, but no, we have been living in peace since Formenos was re-established. The guards are a little hostile at the gate to ward off potential invaders, but inside the fortress walls, we sleep with unlocked doors, and few possess weapons inside their homes."

I raised my eyebrows. That was impressive. "Not even mounted safely on the wall?"

"Not even then. We have no need for them."

"Golly," I breathed. It'd be the first time I'd been in a weapon-less area since living in London.

As he watched my surprised face, Caranthir looked proud and content. "In any case, I am very pleased that you have come to visit. If you go and collect your companions, an escort will be waiting here for all of you to record your names, and then you shall be taken up to Maedhros and me for the promised tour."

"They are another day's ride away yet, so don't put the escort out just now," I said with a quick laugh. "Just let the guards on duty around this time tomorrow know Rhodri's coming, yes?"

He clapped his hands together and rubbed them a little. "Excellent. That gives us enough time to plan a welcoming party. Well, happy travels, and we will see you shortly."

Caranthir beamed at me, and with a friendly nod he turned and went to Maedhros, and the two of them started walking into the city again. Just as I went to turn around, I saw a woman emerge from a small building nearby and approach the two of them, slipping a hand into Caranthir's.

Wishing the (now much friendlier) guards a pleasant evening, I turned and started jogging back in direction of my 20-some people awaiting news of Formenos.

"Fuck me backwards," I murmured to myself as the jogging dialled up into a sprint. I could hardly believe this was the same foul-tempered git who'd verbally torn me a new cloaca for whistling. This guy was smiling voluntarily, effortlessly, and in a way that was extremely hard to falsify. He was genuinely happy, and had taken huge strides in his self-directed reformation. I couldn't help but feel proud of him. I couldn't wait to tell the others.


	99. State-sanctioned happiness

**Persia: **Oh, they look about their age, maybe a little younger. The Elven kids are slow to mature physically, and that seems to be the side they ended up on in terms of how their growth hormones kicked in.

**E.L.: **In some ways, yeah, sort of. I suppose the thing is that they're awake for very long periods. They kind of show what we would be like, I suppose, if we never had to sleep. Like imagine how much a toddler could soak up if they weren't put down for naps half the day on top of all the sleep they got at night. Talk about making the most of that lovely neuroplasticity! If only, huh?

**Earthdragon: **I personally do think Maedhros gets his hand back, but I work on the assumption that all acquired physical ability and disability are left in the hroa that the fea left when it departed for Mandos. You're given a new body upon rebirth, as I understood what I read of LaCE, and that means you're back to square one. No injuries, but all the muscle memory and physical conditioning are lost. You'd get a head start when your non-physical memories kicked in, but you'd still have to re-train to get your muscles and flexibility up to par. Again, just my guess. It's how I interpreted it, at least.

§

"Here she comes!" I heard Glorfindel call to the others as I sprinted over to everyone. There was something very gratifying about having someone you love announce your impending arrival, I felt. I knew Glorfindel was the same, because whenever I did it, he'd get a bounce in his step. I noticed my last few steps were a little springier than usual, too, and a smile crept over my face.

"So how did it go?" Bregedúr asked as she passed Taureth back to me.

"Excellently, as a matter of fact," I replied with a broad grin at everyone. A sigh of relief fell over the company. "I saw Caranthir himself, who seems to be the one running the place, and he informed us that we were all very welcome in Formenos, and that when we arrive tomorrow afternoon, there will be a party celebrating our arrival."

"And you're quite sure it's not a trap?" Turgon asked politely, not entirely hiding his scepticism.

"As sure as I can be," I said with a smile. "And not to sound like the threatening type, but I made it quite clear to Caranthir what would befall him if he proved me wrong."

Glorfindel and Rog both grinned at me while the other Lords of Gondolin swapped glances. I looked down at Taureth, who bent backwards and looked up at me from her upside-down positioning.

"And how have you been, my little tiger, hm? Did you and Aunt Bregedúr have a nice time?"

She nodded, making her jaw clatter a little as she did before straightening up and turning her head around like a normal person.

"Aunt Bregedúr said she'll teach me to fight with a hammer _and_ a sword," she enthused, prompting a nod from Bregedúr when I looked over at her. "I'm going to be the best fighter ever when I grow up, just like her," my (yes, _my_, not Bregedúr's) daughter continued.

I heard a tiny whine from Glorfindel, who looked almost comically wounded by the knowledge that he was no longer his offspring's prize fighter.

"You don't want to be like your Ada or Mummy instead?" Bregedúr asked with a wicked grin at me, knowing perfectly well she was egging Taureth on now.

And would you believe it, the kid laughed at that. She _laughed._

"Ada doesn't fight. He just goes on bouncy things where he jumps high and screams," Taureth replied, still chuckling at silly Aunt Bregedúr who clearly didn't know the first thing about Glorfindel. Her father, incidentally, was agape at this and had put a hand on his chest.  
"Mummy doesn't fight either. She just stops people from hitting her. _And_ she can't talk to people."

Bregedúr was looking absolutely thrilled with herself now, howling with laughter and slapping her knee hard enough to knock her patella clean off.

"Well, well, you two! Your daughter has spoken!" she crowed at us between guffaws.

Melodramatically heartbroken, I turned Elrond and Celebrían for some backup or encouraging words, but there were none to be had. They both had the "mustn't laugh now" vein showing prominently on their temples, and I knew straight away they wouldn't be good for support of any kind.

I sighed. "Whatever your heart desires, kiddo," I said to Taureth in a resigned voice, patting her on the head.

"And I'll be like Auntie Celebrían," piped up Tauros now with a broad grin. "She knows lots of big words and is the best at reading! Or maybe Uncle Erestor. He reads big books, too." Elrond, who I think had a bit of a soft spot for the quieter twin, winced a little knowing he didn't even place.

This was all uncharted territory for me. From what I remembered of developmental psychology, small children often alternated between 'favourite parents,' but these kids had swapped Glorfindel and me out entirely now. My sole comfort was that Olórin, ever the shit-stirrer, was not present to witness all this, and that the second-biggest shit-stirrer, being Elrond, had been sufficiently subdued knowing his little protégé had just passed him over for his wife.

"Jolly good, darling," I reached out and ruffled his hair a little, too.

"Look, I, ah, I hate to constantly change the subject, but could we just return to Formenos for a moment-" Ecthelion began cautiously. To his surprise, Glorfindel and I both leapt at the chance to steer the topic away from our children's choice of role models.

"Yes, right!" I said loudly, my spouse nodding fervently and echoing me with a "Right!"

"Yes, how was it, anyway?"

"Quite lovely, actually," I nodded happily. "According to Caranthir, most households do not have any weapons in them. It looks to be a peaceful, cheerful sort of spot, actually. People seem very happy there."

Everybody who had been listening to that goggled at each other and then at me.

"Yes, it's got quite some appeal to it, hasn't it?" I murmured in thoughtful happiness.

"It seems almost impossible, especially given who is running it," Turgon admitted.

"Do you know, I saw his brother Maedhros standing with him when I arrived at the gates there. I don't think Caranthir is running the place single-handedly."

The others turned and stared at me now, not saying anything until I remembered that Maedhros was an amputee, having lost a hand when he was in Melkor's capture.

"Oh, Christ on a cracker," I gasped, absolutely mortified and quite frankly relieved I hadn't made such a thoughtless comment in front of Maedhros himself. "I do apologise. I meant, of course, that Caranthir isn't the only one in administration." I rubbed my brows with my fingers and hoped that if the earth swallowed me up, I'd get enough warning to pass Taureth back to Bregedúr and get off the horse so they didn't go down with me.

Nobody held the comment over my head or anything, but the conversation happened to fall into a silent period, presumably while everyone thought about what sort of a place awaited them.

As we set up camp that evening, people's moods had lifted quite substantially after hearing that there was nothing to worry about. We had now seemed to shift into a delightful period of cautious optimism, which was more than welcome after the last few weeks of wondering what awaited us at the hands of Fëanor's offspring.

§

We arrived at the gates of Formenos late the next afternoon, when the sun was about an hour away from setting. The same pair of guards at the gate stood there and gave me a pleasant wave as we approached, which was quite a change from looking ready to skewer me like they had the day prior. Smiling, I waved back. The man hurried off, and the woman waited to meet us, taking our names down on a piece of paper which I presumed to be for future reference if we made a return visit.

"He's going and retrieving the escort who will accompany all of you to see the Lords of Formenos," she said, jerking her thumb in the direction of the other guard who had disappeared. "They should be along directly. In the meantime, the stablehands here will assist you with your horses." She gestured now at a handful of Elves off to her left who greeted us warmly and we gratefully handed the reins to them and let our horses be led off.

"Everybody looks to be in a terrific mood here," I remarked to the guard. She gave a broad, contented smile and nodded.

"We are very happy," she confirmed. "Coming to Formenos has been a balm for many of us. It has been a chance to make a fresh start in life after all the sorrows from the Silmarils, and though we loved Tirion, it was clear that the past hung over us there, kept us from moving forward. Here, though, we recognise that past but are working to grow and learn from it. I think, all in all, our efforts are succeeding." Her words were heartfelt and genuine, and though there was contrition for the ages past, the determination in her voice to improve rang clear as a bell.

"My congratulations," I said encouragingly. "It seems like that improvement is already happening. You must be proud."

"I hope it is," she murmured in modest but happy thoughtfulness. "I want things to be different. We all do."

Just then, the other guard reappeared with a slender but broad-shouldered Elf-woman, her hair darker than a raven's wing and endowed with almost frighteningly light blue eyes. She gave us a gentle but welcoming smile as she came over to us.

"Good afternoon," she said pleasantly. Her voice somehow matched her eyes- high and beautiful, and it poured into our ears with the same fluidity and shock to it as icy water. "You are very welcome in Formenos. My name is Lindis. If you would be so kind as to follow me, I will escort you to the hall where you will be received."

"Thank you very much," I said with a cheerful nod, placing Taureth up on my shoulders so she could get a better view as we went up the paved main road and into the city proper.

Though I'm loath to admit it, up to that point, a small part of me had wondered if there was a chance I had read Caranthir wrong, and that all of the pleasance the place (and its people) had radiated was a mere facade. The turnaround in all of this had seemed so dramatic as to be almost disingenuous, like a _deus ex machina _in the plot of my own life.

The thing is, though, some stories really do have a happy ending- or rather, a happy plot twist, since Elves are not known for their stories ending. There are those rare occasions that it all pans out nicely, and as we reached the top of the hill and got a first look over the interior of the walled city, I knew this was one of those times. People milled about calmly and happily for the most part. Some relaxed on benches under trees, others walked hand-in-hand with their partners or children, and, perhaps most importantly, where there were signs of distress, comfort was never far away. As we walked along the main road up to a particularly large hall, I managed to count three adults who were either crying or looked upset in some way.; Without fail, they were either accompanied by someone giving them comfort, or if they were alone, a stranger would stop without being asked and simply _be_ with them. It was the sort of 'check-in' culture that I and so many of my peers in psychology had wished were an integral part of the society we had lived in. London was so vast and densely-populated that anonymity was almost a given, and it was all too easy for people to slip under the radar in moments of sorrow or worry, missing out on the tender solicitude from another that the body aches for in such times. My heart swelled when I realised that this was exactly how things should be, and that it's exactly how things _were_ here. For any psychologist, this was living the dream, and the memory of walking through the city and seeing this remains one of my happiest to date. My huge smile didn't disappear from my face the entire time, and as we walked into the hall and saw Caranthir waiting at the end, he went to meet us in the middle and, in a total abandonment of professionalism, I strode over to him and clapped my hands on them in delight.

"Well done, Caranthir," I said through my grin. "Well, well done. I cannot tell you how _thrilled_ I am for you. You've channelled the very best of yourself and made the most of your incredible talents to create a society that you have every reason to be very proud of indeed."

Caranthir beamed at me and accepted the remarks with a modest but joyful laugh.

"All thanks to your help, Rhodri," he said delightedly.

"Not at all," I replied, shaking my head. "This is all your hard work paying off in spades. I just got you started. I'm happy I could be of help to you."

"There is more to be done, and I have a proposition for you, if you are open to it."

I raised my eyebrows in interest. "Oh?"

He nodded. "But we can discuss that later, perhaps. For now, I believe many introductions are in order." Caranthir turned and beckoned to Maedhros, two other redheads who looked to be twins (presumably relatives), and the woman I'd seen Caranthir hold hands with, who came over now, all in similarly good humour.

"My brother Maedhros you've already met," Caranthir began. "Two of my other brothers, Amrod and Amras, and my wife Galadreth."

Amrod and Amras gave friendly but shy nods, and Galadreth approached me and took one of my hands in hers.

"So you are the Rhodri my husband has spoken so highly of," she said warmly, squeezing my hand now as she beamed at me before catching sight of the child sitting on my shoulders.

"And who is this keen-eyed young lady?" she asked, giving Taureth a polite wave. "Oh, and she has a twin!"

Glorfindel appeared at my side now, Tauros perched on his shoulders smiling broadly.

"She does indeed," Glorfindel supplied happily. "Our daughter Taureth sits atop Rhodri, and our son Tauros on me."

Caranthir and Galadreth's eyes widened.

"Goodness, Lord Glorfindel married a Maia," Caranthir murmured in surprise.

"Be assured, my role as a psychologist has had more of a bearing than being a Maia ever has," I returned with a laugh. "Now, let's get on with these introductions."

Said introductions took at least ten minutes. As always. The Elves never did make short work of those. There was always the litany of ascendant relatives they felt compelled to recite, and Elven small talk rivals that of the Brits, which is saying an awful lot, so the time seemed to drag on a little.

I amused myself by observing Bregedúr talk with Maedhros, Amrod, and Amras. It was like watching a small convention for token gingers.

"What are you staring at?" she asked me with a raised eyebrow.

"A family reunion, I believe," I answered with a smirk.

Bregedúr rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. "As I have told you about _seventeen _times, not all redheads are related! There were multiple who were awakened at Cuivienien!"

"That's exactly what someone from one big, happy redhead family would say."

Bregedúr scowled, and her three siblings turned away from her and giggled.

"Perhaps it is time for food, now that the introductions are taken care of?" Caranthir suggested mildly.

"Excellent idea," Bregedúr replied with a nod. "I'm absolutely famished."

"You won't be for much longer," Galadreth assured her happily. "The banquet that awaits is… well, you'll see for yourselves. If you'd be so kind as to follow us." With a winning smile, she took her husband's hand and they made for an annexe off to the side of the hall, followed closely by Maedhros, Amrod, and Amras. The twenty-some of us newcomers trailed after them like ducks, and when we passed through another doorway connected to the annexe, we found ourselves in another huge hall, so richly appointed that it made your eyes pop.

The marble walls were lined with murals and friezes that fed into the gracefully-ribbed vaults above. Carefully-positioned arch windows let the sun in, but they had been so cleverly put out of the main sight that it seemed the light was coming from somewhere else. There were no interruptions on the eye, nothing overwhelming in the hall, and yet my field of vision felt comfortably full and satisfied.

Everything in the place, both this room and everywhere else we had seen in Formenos, looked like it had been the product of extensive, painstaking work and creative genius. Huge long-term investments of time, effort, and talent that paid off with breathtaking beauty and charm.

And it wasn't just the architecture that was incredible. In a manner most uncharacteristic of the average Valinorean banquet, the tables here were almost collapsing under the weight of the food- and the food itself was sumptuous. Everything was skilfully made and beautifully arranged, and the smell was delightful.

"Mummy, I think I need something to eat," Taureth murmured to me from up on my shoulders as she tapped my cheek absent-mindedly. Well, if that wasn't a seal of approval, I didn't know what was.

"Ditto, sprout," I breathed back.

A few minutes later, we realised why so much nosh had initially been laid out on the tables as crowds of local Elves started to pour in. They came in through all the doors and lined up along the walls, and keeping in mind this hall could have sat some nine hundred people, the place was at capacity.

"Is the entire city attending the banquet?" I asked Galadreth as I glanced out one of the doors and saw a line going out and snaking down the corridor.

"Well, perhaps not everyone, but we decided as the rulers that banquets we held were to be available to all our people. Open invitation events, as it were. It helps us to maintain transparency and remain approachable. We try to flatten the hierarchy here as much as possible."

My eyes just about fell out of my head. This was absolutely incredible. The fortress may initially have been built by Fëanor, but the way it was run now couldn't have been any further from his ideals.

"Besides which," Caranthir jovially chimed in now, "this isn't just _any _banquet."

Before I could seek clarification on that remark, Caranthir stepped into the middle of the room and held one hand out a little, upon which the room fell silent.

"Good evening," he addressed us all with a smile. "And indeed, what a remarkable one it is. For almost three years, by our exhaustive collective efforts, patience, determination, and cooperation, we have turned an exile into a haven. What was once the place of banishment for evilness is now a bastion of hope and rehabilitation. We have been waiting for this day a longer time than any of us dare think, and now, at last, we can proudly welcome our very first guests."

Smiling radiantly, Caranthir gestured at us newcomers, and the cheers that erupted from both the indoor and outdoor crowd almost blew the windows out. For five straight minutes, the clapping and whooping and whistling that came out of these people was enough to make me wonder if at some point we would need to set up an audiology clinic there to deal with noise-induced hearing loss.

When they eventually calmed down again, Caranthir continued. "And so, now we come to the introductions. Our esteemed guests are: King Turgon of Gondolin along with the Lords Ecthelion, Tuor, Egalmoth, Glorfindel, Penlod, Rog, Galdor, and Duilin of the same."

Happy, polite applause rippled through the crowd, and then Caranthir proceeded.

"Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrían of Imladris, Bregedúr, Princess Consort of Mirkwood and her daughter Daereth."  
The applause that came now was more nervous, which was hardly a surprise given the background of Elrond in relation to these Noldor.

"Here are High King Gil-Galad of Lindon and the King's Consort Erestor,"

Still uncomfortable and contrite, but the welcoming notes in the applause were genuine.  
"And a special welcome to our youngest guests, Taureth and Tauros of Alqualondë, who you will see sit atop their father and mother," Caranthir indicated the tallest members of the group (or at least the most elevated), and the cheerful clapping broke out again. Excited by the positive reception, Taureth jittered a little and whacked her hand enthusiastically against the side of my head, promptly poking me in the eye. Blinded for a moment in that eye, I felt it water, and I gently guided my child's hands to the space over my head so she could clap her hands and save me from losing my vision entirely.

"Which brings me to my introduction of the guest of honour tonight." Caranthir turned to look at me and I felt my stomach twist into knots. Now don't mistake me, I love being the centre of attention, but not when receiving accolades. I'm more your court jester type. In the poignance of the moment, especially as Caranthir's eyes had started to well up, it felt particularly awkward to have one eye (the poked one, of course) dripping like a hosepipe. I wasn't crying. Dying inside from awkwardness, certainly, but not crying. This, however, was not clear to everyone else, who was now gawking to get a look at the round-eared individual with one hand clapped over their eye like a pathetic makeshift pirate costume.

"Rhodri of Imladris showed compassion to me at the time when I least deserved it. I was haunted by a past that I thought had cost me my future as well. An angry, callous brute, and in the face of my appalling temper, she offered me guidance, patience, and kind but firm instruction that challenged me to change my ways. Without her, Formenos would still be abandoned, and I would still be the same beast as before." He turned to look at me now, his piercing eyes a little red now. "To you, Rhodri, I owe all this success, and you have my deepest gratitude for showing me the way to a life I could never have envisioned for myself."

And I shit you not, the same guy who had threatened to knock the stuffing out of me for whistling on the beach stepped over now, and he pulled me into a bone-crushing embrace. I could feel his torso shake a little as his breaths got shallow, but if there was accompanying noise, I couldn't hear any of it because the place had broken out in pandemonium.

Sometimes in my career, I have wanted to hug clients. It's only natural. You connect with people on a very deep level as their therapist, but it has to be managed in such a way as to keep the relationship impersonal as well. That means that for the benefit of both the client and the psychologist, touching of any kind is off the table. For Caranthir, it was particularly a no-no because he had been deprived of human contact and affection for a worryingly long time. In that very vulnerable moment, his emotion was coming from taking stock of his success, and I wasn't the person to provide that sort of comfort. Mercifully, Gil-Galad stepped over and slipped Taureth off my shoulders so that I could respond. Gently, I put my hands on Caranthir's shoulders and steered him back a step so I could look him in the eyes.

"Well done," I said with a smile, nodding softly. "I'm so pleased I could help a little, Caranthir. My door's always open to you." I gripped his shoulders the entire time, partly to keep him at arm's length so he wouldn't try to embrace me again, and partly because squeezing his shoulders seemed like a comfortable compromise between hugging and not hugging. Strictly speaking, it was still not quite acceptable in my books, but it was a way to navigate the situation without making it awkward for him.

He looked back at me, his face blotchy now, and gave me a wet smile, mirroring my nod.

"Shall we eat?" he asked after a moment, his voice still quite thick. Taureth had apparently heard this over the crowd, and she gave an ear-splitting roar of approval that was joined not long after by her brother.

To my relief, it injected a bit of humour into the situation, and distracted Caranthir from what must have been a very emotional moment.

"Then allow me to show you all to your seats." He led us up to the top of one of the tables- not a special table for the higher-ups. Just one of the tables, and we sat down there, Glorfindel to my left, and Caranthir and Galadreth seated at the very end adjacent to me. We piled up our plates and started, the other attendees filed past, loading their plates and either taking them outside to eat, or sitting down at the tables. Either way, there was enough for everyone to help themselves several times over, and they often did.

"I'm afraid it will be a little late to take you all around the city for a tour this evening," Caranthir informed us as he took a mouthful of roasted pumpkin. "There is music and dancing after dinner if it suits you all, though we understand that you have come all this way with very little children." He and Galadreth looked sweetly at Taureth and Tauros, who were fanging into the asparagus like it was going out of fashion.

"Oh, don't worry about them," I said airily, waving a hand. "They never sleep. I think they'd be outraged if there were a dance going on and they missed it because of something as absurd as bedtime."

Caranthir and Galadreth glanced at each other nervously. I got the impression they had assumed I was speaking figuratively and were wondering what the contact details were for the Elven Department of Children and Families.

"Maiar don't sleep," I added quickly, "and these two seem not to need it either. The last time they took a nap was… Glorfindel, when was that?"

Glorfindel looked up from his salad and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Goodness, it's been a while. I think it was the night Bilbo died. So a few weeks ago, at least."

Caranthir and Galadreth's polite nervousness had disappeared, replaced now by blank shock.

"We- ah, we are sorry for your loss," Caranthir said when he regained the ability to vocalise. "Bilbo was the very small, elderly man, was he not?"

We nodded sadly. "It's been a quiet few weeks since then, I must say." I sighed a little, and things fell into a contemplative quietness for a moment. I wasn't keen on it lingering, though, and decided to steer the topic of conversation to something more cheerful.

"Caranthir, were you saying you had some sort of proposal earlier?"

Caranthir looked up quickly and nodded. "Yes indeed," he confirmed.

"The curiosity is eating me alive," I said, excitedly bouncing my knees up and down so that Taureth wobbled from leg to leg. "Is now a suitable time to talk about it?"

"Certainly," he smiled. "Well, Formenos has essentially provided a place for the Noldor who participated in the Kinslayings to start anew, as it were. Part of the reason I sought to re-establish Formenos was to move my people away from their victims so that they aren't re-traumatised by having to be around them. The other part, of course, is to offer somewhere that willing members of my people can be rehabilitated and have a chance to fully participate in a productive society. We have established plenty of rules that keep Formenos running smoothly, but to be honest with you, Rhodri, I don't think I completely thought it through." He raised his eyebrows and took a sip of wine.

"Oh? Is anything wrong here?" I enquired.

"Not ostensibly, no," he replied as he shook his head. "For all intents and purposes, the realm is thriving. The land is so fertile that we generate enough crops to sustain Alqualondë as well as ourselves, and we do hope to enter reparations negotiations for them and other goods that we have in excess. But my people continue to suffer. The past hangs over them, and though I try to help them through, I lack the wisdom to guide them through situations that are not the same as my own, or at least very similar. But we all have different stories, different personalities, different ways of coping, or failing to cope, with our troubles."

I nodded and smiled a little. He had given this a lot of thought, and acknowledging where the limits of his abilities lay paved the way for a very sustainable societal fabric indeed.

"Is that something I could perhaps help with?" I suggested politely.

Caranthir and Galadreth smiled back at me.

"We were rather hoping you would say that," Caranthir confessed. "I understand you are a very long way away, but I wonder if it would be possible to arrange occasional visits to help some of the residents here who are struggling with settling in and coping with their emotions. Naturally, we will be glad to host anyone you wish to bring with you," he added quickly. "You would also have your own quarters and office that we would reserve for your use alone, and naturally, we would be more than happy to reimburse you for your time and efforts."

"Goodness, that is a very generous offer," I murmured with raised eyebrows. "I couldn't accept any payment, but we will need a little time to consider your proposal." I looked at Glorfindel, who looked excited but nodded. "Could we give you an answer in a couple of days? If I can't travel immediately, I'm certain we could find a way around this."

Our hosts nodded kindly. "Take all the time you need. You are all welcome here as long as you like, and we can appreciate that it would involve some travel for you and your family," Caranthir said.

"In the meantime," Galadreth spoke up now, "can we interest any of you in some music and dancing?"

The children, naturally enough, hadn't been interested in the adult conversation, instead devoting themselves to eating as much food as they could manage without bursting. At the mention of dancing, however, both of them looked up from their plates, their faces shining with enthusiasm.

"Oh, yes," Tauros said with a Cheshire Cat-esque grin. "I'm always ready for dancing." His sister nodded fervently in agreement on her part as well.

The elder Great Oz had spoken, and with that, we stood up and made our way into the ballroom to tear up their gorgeous artisanal dance floor.


	100. You actually named him that?

**UPDATE: ** Reviews aren't showing up on my end either. I waved them all through, but they're still nowhere to be seen. It isn't the first time this has happened; I've had periods on here where reviews haven't been visible for some days after they were submitted. It's usually down to a server issue on FF. Totally out of my control, I promise, but the matter usually resolves within a week. Sit tight!

**Author's note: **

CW: There's a lot of sex in this chapter. A lot.

Rather predictable, making a note on the 100th chapter, but holy dooley, what a ride this has been! To be honest with you, I had an idea and I just threw a few words together, wanting to get it out of my head and onto paper because it was becoming too big to keep in there. And this is where we've come to so far! I initially wondered if there was any point uploading _Pathology_ to FF because I've never shared my writing with anyone before, but all your kind feedback makes me so, so glad that I did! I very much appreciate you amazing folks taking time out of your day to have a read, drop me a line, and/or pop a review on. Thanks for making room for Rhodri. Here's to the next 100 chapters (because let's face it: Rhodri's not running out of work any time soon)! As always, please be gentle with yourself and take the time to have something to drink. :)

**Kendall: **I get what you're saying, but it's intentional. The thing with Taureth is it's always going to seem that she gets more time at this point. True to her role as the instigator, she's the one out probing and getting the consequences of that, and during early childhood as the kids learn how the world works, it _is_ magnified a lot. Tauros, who is a little quieter and substantially more contemplative, is happy to sit and observe. You'll see that he gets plenty of dialogue throughout, but quiet children who are building up their personality will seem necessarily overshadowed. If anything, he gets more individual mentions than Taureth, mostly because even though the parents switch kids regularly, Tauros naturally gravitates more toward Rhodri. But because she marches around finding things out and Tauros is watching to see what happens, there won't be much mention of him when that stuff is going on.

**Shamus: **Yeah, I wasn't actually sure if Caranthir would know what a Hobbit was. I know he was in Middle-Earth for a bit there as he made his fortune there, but being uncertain, I opted for the lowercase 'man' referring to male, rather than "Man" being humans like Aragorn and co. Hope that clears that up :)

**All remarks about Taureth: **Haha she's certainly a handful! She knows exactly what she's doing, too, when she makes those comments. She looooves the giggles the grown-ups make when she embarrasses her mother and father. But Rhodri and Glorfindel don't do much of a job restraining her, either, it should be noted. And honestly, I think it's mostly because it's harmless, and too entertaining to genuinely want to stop. She only does it to them, and it's situation-controlled (e.g. not saying awkward shit during Bilbo's funeral). It's one of those difficult things where a three-year-old has a ten-year-old's vocabulary but the mannerisms of their same-age peers. There's a lot to learn, and luckily, the kids are growing so fast that in another six months, they'll have changed again. If they really wanted to stop her from being noisy, they would, and she would comply.

With the eye thing, that's more kid clumsiness and falling prey to intense excitement. She'd meant to clap her hands but the noise and wild enthusiasm let her to applauding… on Rhodri's head and eye. Whoops!

\- 100

The dancing was absolutely fantastic and was another testament to the hub of creativity Caranthir and co. had fostered in Formenos. There was a lot of potential that had gone untapped among the Noldor, it seemed, when they had been living in Tirion. And to be fair, it was very hard to relax enough to let the creative juices flow when you were constantly around people you'd murdered some Ages prior. I know the Elves come back to life and everything, but it's still a dreadful thing to do, and it really was for the best, I think, that they let their victims be so that they had a chance to heal as well. How do you even come back from something like that?

That was a question I couldn't answer, and wasn't sure there even _was _an answer to. But now that these Elves' penances were done in Mandos, they still had their lives to live, atrocities in their past or not, and they had to go _somewhere_. And here, it seemed, they really thrived, even doing so well as to have the means to start making reparations to the other Elves. It was really the best outcome anyone could have asked for, I thought.

All that bounced around in my head as I frantically tried to pick up the new dances that the Elves of Formenos had made up. And once again, the dichotomy between Rhodri and Glorfindel's children became apparent, Taureth learning the moves lickety-split and coordinating herself with all the grace and splendour of her father. She was almost prodigiously good. And then darling Tauros, who was… well, he was _very _enthusiastic. Fortunately, mother and son were equally shitty dancers and happily whiled away many rounds out on the floor, moving with the sort of risible awkwardness that would have had Fred Astaire bludgeoning me with a sock full of pennies if he could.

To my surprise, as the night wore on, Tauros started to yawn. When it was close to midnight, he stopped jitterbugging and looked up at me placidly, holding his arms up.

"Do you want to snuggle dance, or are you ready for sleep?" I asked him as I hoisted him onto my hip.

"Snuggle dancing, please," he murmured gently, his long, black eyelashes fluttering as his blinks grew more frequent.

"As you wish, my little love," I replied, taking his hand in mine and stepping into a gentle waltz as I made for Glorfindel. In one of those moments that makes you melt an awful lot as a parent, Tauros nestled into me and let himself tip from side to side as I rocked from one foot to the other.

I found Glorfindel in a similar situation, gently strolling toward me with a rather dopey-looking Taureth's head resting on his shoulder. She was too tired to even have an expression on her face, instead looking out at the world behind her father with exhausted blankness.

"Might be time to put these two into their pyjamas and put them to bed, hm?" I murmured to him with a smile.

"Mmm," he agreed as he returned the smile, patting Taureth's back affectionately.

We strolled over to say goodnight to Caranthir and the others and express our thanks for the wonderful reception we'd had so far.

"I thought you said they do not sleep?" Galadreth murmured. She looked ever-so-slightly clucky as she watched Taureth lazily blink at her like a tiny drunk person.

"We are as surprised as you are," Glorfindel replied with a laugh.

"Allow us to show you to your chambers, then," Caranthir said quickly, catching his wife's expression from the corner of his eye and reddening in the cheeks a little.

Glorfindel and I shot each other a smirk as we followed the two of them out and along the street to what appeared in the dark to be a huge, sprawling mansion. It would have been big enough for forty or fifty families.

"This is for you and your companions to stay in," Galadreth informed us as we stood outside the house. "Your quarters are at the top and to the right."

"If it suits you, we can meet you out the front of the house at nine o'clock to take you to breakfast, after which we can show you a little of Formenos," Caranthir suggested pleasantly.

"That sounds fantastic," I said with a nod. "In which case, we'll see you tomorrow morning. Thank you again for the lovely evening."

"Thank you for visiting," Galadreth said, her smile warm and sincere.

Wishing us goodnight, the two of them departed, and we went inside.

The front door opened into what appeared to be a lobby, flanked with a number of communal rooms and some passages that fed into other rooms (presumably, anyway). The interior was decorated like it was the very well-loved house of a fabulously wealthy person. All of the furniture was exquisite, and yet none of it gave off the appearance as never having been used or being solely for display purposes, as was so often the case in well-to-do dwellings. What they had done to give the place such a home-y feel in the face of art-gallery worthy aesthetic was beyond me.

We didn't have time to inspect anything, though, as the children's consciousness was beginning to really dwindle. Heading upstairs to the third floor, we turned right as instructed and saw that we had been given chambers that were only marginally smaller than our own in Alqualonde. There were five spacious rooms (one of which was a bathroom) and a generous balcony that I was very much looking forward to becoming acquainted with in the coming days.

Glorfindel and I managed to convince the children to stay awake long enough to get them washed and dressed in their pyjamas, and when we tucked them into one of the huge double beds, they fell deeply asleep straight away. Taureth was curled up like a cat, and Tauros beside her with his four limbs scattered in the cardinal directions, both of them impervious to any noise or movement. Satisfied that they would be fine sleeping alone, we retreated to talk awhile longer before calling it a day ourselves.

We slipped off our outer robes and lay down on a bed in another room, propping ourselves up against some large, squashy pillows.

"My goodness, what a day it's been," Glorfindel remarked cheerfully as he rested a hand on my leg. His blue eyes twinkled so winsomely that I heard my breath hitch a little.

"It's really been something, hasn't it," I said, forcing myself to return to the conversation at hand. "I wasn't quite sure what to expect of Formenos, but this wasn't it."

Glorfindel nodded in agreement. "No. It's a pleasant surprise, to be sure, but all the same… and the people also took me aback- for the better as well, of course." He moved his hand a little higher up my leg, gently kneading my thigh with his thumb as his eyes flicked eyes up to me.

That familiar stirring that would strike whenever Glorfindel started getting coy was particularly intense this time around. With Bilbo dying and us being on the road for three weeks, time alone had been impossible to come by for that entire month. Despite the fact that we were in the middle of a perfectly edifying conversation, at that moment a growing part of me wanted nothing more than to tear Glorfindel's clothes to shreds and have my wicked way with him. Determined not to lose my cool, though, I forced a straight face and put a hand on Glorfindel's well-muscled thigh as casually as I could.

"Yes, I quite agree," I replied. "And the proposition Caranthir made was certainly food for thought, don't you think?"

"Mmm," he purred as his hand went up further still, making me break out in goosebumps. "Are you tempted to take the offer?"

"D-aah, ahem- depends on whether you're up for it or not," I replied after clearing my throat a little. "It's a lot of travelling which could potentially be cut short if Olórin can show me how to teleport, but if you're happy enough to do the six-week round trip and spend a couple of months here now and then, I think it would be nice."

My breathing resumed its normal pace again, and in a matter-of-fact sort of way, I slid my hand up Glorfindel's leg until it rested neatly in the fold of his upper thigh and massaged the top of his leg with my fingertips.

I heard a sharp intake of air, but when I looked up, that beguiling smile hadn't disappeared, and as he took his lip between his teeth again, just about everything between my stomach and my knees was in mutiny.

"Yes, I think it would be nice, too," he murmured, leaning in now and nipping gently along my jawline as he shifted his hand until it reached the fold of my own leg. Instead of grabbing my thigh, though, he turned his hand inward and started to slowly stroke me through my pants. "_Very _nice."

"We could also t-take the opportunity to… ah… stop in at Tirion to collect supplies…" I said, just a tad breathless now, "and sssshare the discovery of rubber with our neighbours."

My less-than-chaste kopfkino went into overdrive at this point, and I had to exert significant effort to try and shut it down so I could stay on topic. Not to be outdone, though, I slid my hand over the increasingly-obvious prominence at the front of Glorfindel's pants, taking it and rubbing it slowly.

A grunt escaped Glorfindel's mouth before he could stop himself, his hips making a tiny, quick jerk. He seemed able to multitask, however, and said in a remarkably straight voice given the situation, "If you find the prospect of all the travelling makes you a little hesitant, we can do a trial visit and take it to a review after that."

He paused and moved his hand away a moment, arching an eyebrow as he rubbed his fingers together.

"Hmm. Quite wet," was all he said before he undid the front laces on my pants and slipped his hand down my underpants.

Glorfindel's breath snagged a moment as his fingers probed me expertly, and his eyes darted up to me, the blue in them glowing like the flame of a Bunsen burner. "Correction: _very_ wet," he murmured before resuming his now-unimpeded ministrations.

I couldn't bite back the hiss that escaped me. My stomach muscles had tightened so hard I thought something was going to tear, and I could barely keep track of what we were talking about. If this had become a game between us, I was destined to lose at this rate, because I wasn't keeping my composure nearly as well as Glorfindel was.

The heady pleasure was heating up my entire body, and most of my energy was spent trying not to writhe and scream as he stroked me. Exhaling once sharply, I pushed my mind back to the silent challenge he had issued me, but as I tried to reciprocate and open Glorfindel's pants, I found I couldn't. Two-and-some thousand years of muscle memory from undoing his pants seemed to have failed me completely, and my haywire brain was in no position to remind me how to untie laces. Pretending as though I had never intended to do it, I just managed to get it together enough to gasp, "A t-trial visit sounds… nnngh… like a great idea. I like the way you think, beloved."

The bastard bit his lip at me, shooting me a sinfully tempting smile as he deftly undid the laces I'd been unable to do anything with. With one hand, no less, the show-off. Without a word, he took my useless hand in his. Guiding it down past the blocks of muscle on his taut, rippling belly and into his underwear, he wrapped my fingers around his very swollen, very slippery length. Glorfindel moaned softly as I started to rub the underside of the head in a circular motion, clenching his free hand in a fist before forcibly relaxing it and the rest of his body.

"You like the way I think, do you?" he whispered impishly, climbing on top of me and leaning into my face until the bridges of our noses were touching. His eyes were smouldering now, and minuscule beads of perspiration dotted his face. "Well, beloved, it may interest you to know that _you_ dominate the majority of my thoughts."

Moving forward, his lips grazed against mine, only retracting them when I reflexively tried to move my head forward and kiss him hard. Wild frustration started to grow in me, and I knew I didn't have long before I snapped, but Glorfindel seemed as determined as ever to draw some sort of beast out of me, keeping me firmly pinned underneath him.

"Let me clarify, though," he dropped his voice to a whisper as he moved his mouth near my ear. "I'm not _always_ taking your clothes off and giving you pleasure in those thoughts, but I would be lying if I said it was an infrequent occurrence."

Glorfindel gently removed my hand from his erection and took his own hand from between my legs. At what must have been a snail's pace, he lowered his hips and started to rub at me with his arousal instead, and I thought my heart was going to explode from the strain of trying to keep a regular rhythm.

"But who could blame me?" he asked innocently, returning to my lips and repeatedly biting the lower one softly. "My wife is most ravishing, and I am quite sure we Elves are less wholesome creatures than you Maiar." He traced his tongue over my swelling lip before adding, "I'm certain your thoughts, my love, are on higher planes, not thinking of the dirty things I do."

That was it. I couldn't take the torture a second longer, and with a frustrated grunt, I had thrown Glorfindel on his back, pinning his hands to the bed. He looked up at me in wide-eyed but satisfied surprise.

"By Christ, you're a tease," I hissed at him, feeling my nose wrinkle up and my brows draw together. "But fine, if you want to play that game, let's do it."

I felt my face twist into a smirk. "You're absolutely right, of course. I've never had a single unwholesome thought about you, my love. Even though you're the most strikingly gorgeous thing I've ever laid eyes on…" I gently ground myself against his arousal as he had with me, and it elicited a small whimper from Glorfindel as his hips jolted sharply under mine.

"Not so much as a kiss has gone through my mind, let alone anything less salubrious than that," I murmured as I buried my face in his neck and kissed there, his concentrated scent of fresh leaves, wood, and salt filling my nostrils. The smell was intoxicating, and I kissed his neck harder and harder, spurred on by the way he started to softly mewl and writhe under me.

That deadly combination of prolonged stimulation and the noises of pleasure Glorfindel was making almost tipped me over the edge then and there, and I forced myself to keep my hips still to let my internal tension die down a little.

"Oh my, Rhodri," he said quietly, a smug smile tugging at his reddened lips. "Close already, are we?"

"Just wait. I'll have you begging in a minute," I growled back.

"Goodness, such a harsh tone of voice," he scolded me playfully. "So impatient. It seems you've been aroused longer than I had suspected."

I gritted my teeth. "I may need to revise my last statement about how often I've envisioned you in… adult settings," came my reluctant reply.

"Is that so?" he breathed. "And what changes would you make?"

"The number would be greater than never," I rumbled, feeling my muscles relax as the arousal calmed somewhat.

"How much greater?" Glorfindel whispered, taking advantage of my loose pinhold as he leaned up and took me into a brief but intense kiss. It undid much of the work I'd done in trying to quieten my appetites, and afraid that it would finish me, I ripped my head back and pushed him down onto the bed again.

"How much, Rhodri?" he repeated, looking extremely pleased with himself now.

"Hourly on a calm day," I admitted. "Much more when you tease me."

I heard his breath snag quietly at my confession, and his teasing expression softened.

"So often?"

I nodded once.

"How long for?"

"Since we got together."

"All that time?"

I heaved a frustrated sigh. "Oh, yes. It's even harder to resist you now than it was before."

"Goodness," he whispered.

"I bet you feel the more wholesome of the two of us now, hmm?" I mumbled in amusement, my cheeks reddening a tad.

"Oh, no," he murmured. "'Matched' is probably the most apt word for it."

Now it was my turn to bite my lip.

"What did you think I was hiding all those books for, Rhodri?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Did you think they were strategy guides for checkers?"

"You never told me what they were for, and I've never read them," I shrugged as I cautiously took one hand off Glorfindel's arm to brush an errant strand of hair out of his face. "They had no title on them, so I assumed they were private."

Mirth flashed across Glorfindel's face. "And to think I was hoping you'd give them a read."

I felt like my brain had been swapped out for a novelty-size question mark. "What's in them?" I asked blankly. "If it's Elf porno-"

"Teleporno?" he said, looking thoroughly confused now. "What does Celeborn have to do with any of this, and why did you use his Quenya name?"

"Tel- _what?"_ I exclaimed. "Oh my god, that isn't his name, is it? _Teleporno?"_

I quickly grabbed one of the pillows on the bed and screamed with laughter into it, completely forgetting for a moment that my loins were almost painfully engorged with arousal. When I felt able to, I replaced the pillow on the bed and saw Glorfindel looking up at me in absolute bewilderment.

"Rhodri, what on _earth_ does Celeborn have to do with our love life?" he repeated.

"Absolutely nothing, thank Christ," I replied. "You misheard me. I said _Elf porno. _Short for 'pornography.' Pornography is an English word that refers to visual material of sexual organs or people, usually actors or famous people, in sexual acts designed to… ah… 'stimulate' the reader. I assumed that Elves probably had some kind of stash like that around somewhere and that I just never saw it for myself."

Glorfindel's eyes were like dinner plates now. "_Actors and famous people?"_ he echoed in horror before shaking his head firmly. "No, absolutely not. It is not unheard of for married pairs to make erotic drawings of their spouses, but never of anyone else_." _A look of utter disgust passed over his face for a moment. "That would not be considered acceptable to any Elf I know, and it certainly is not anything I would wish to possess for myself."

"I _was_ surprised when the guess first came to me, I must say," I admitted, "but porn was a perfectly common thing in my world and not usually considered immoral, so I accepted it and left it be." I shrugged again. "Different things for different people."

"Do… do _you _have pornography, Rhodri?" he breathed, watching up at me with wide, fearful eyes.

Seeing the panic in my spouse's face made the pit of my stomach drop. What a fool I was, thinking Elves had porn. I had no problem with it myself, and it had been a perfectly acceptable thing in London. But this was not London, or any part of that world, and Elves being what they were, of course they would hate it. Sex meant spouse. One spouse per life, one life per Elf (rebirth included). Where would getting off to a sexy stranger fit into that worldview? It was unheard of to take interest in anyone outside of one's own spouse, even in the mere sense of passing attraction, to the point that it was almost physically impossible. On a fundamental level, it was anathema, but on a personal level, the idea of infidelity (which is what pornography would have seemed to them) was so incompatible with them that discovering a partner looked at pornography would have been intensely traumatic for them. Though I owned none myself and had never had an interest in it, it scared me deeply to see how easily I could have broken Glorfindel's heart had my choices been a little different.

I lowered myself down beside Glorfindel and as I went to hold him, he recoiled ever so slightly, which hurt worse than a hundred Morgul burns. His narrowed eyes searched me almost frantically as he waited for an answer.

"Glorfindel," I choked, my eyes watering. "No, I don't. I've never had any interest in it, or in anyone else except you. Even when I thought it was permitted and that you were using it yourself, I had no desire for it. I feel ridiculous for not knowing that it was a taboo among the Elves, but you can be sure I would never intentionally hurt you. Not with pornography, not with anything."

He closed his eyes and let out a small sigh, rubbing his brows with his fingers.

Well, that had certainly switched up the atmosphere a bit. And quite rapidly, too. My heart was still hammering in my chest, but now it was in much unhappier circumstances.

I died a thousand deaths before Glorfindel opened his eyes as I waited for his reaction. When he did open them, he reached out and put a hand on my arm. I was so unsure of myself in that moment that it was like I was back on that giant rock trying to work out if he felt the same way as I did.

"Are you all right?" I asked, my voice cracking a little as I took his hand and pressed my lips into his palm.

He nodded with a small, genuine smile. "I just had a momentary shock, that's all."

"Do you trust me not to hurt you? Do you feel safe with me?" I whispered desperately, the fear nearly choking me.

Glorfindel's smile widened. "Always. On both counts. I will admit that reflexively, it would have hurt deeply if you had said yes, but I know your background is different and we had never explicitly spoken about it. You simply made the allowance for it for both of us and left it at that, which is something again than seeking it out behind my back knowing my stance." He nodded reassuringly. "And what of you, hmm? Do you feel safe with me? Trust me not to hurt you?"

I nodded tearfully, my constricting throat cutting off my speaking abilities as the cumulative stress sank its teeth into me.

"Oh, now, now," Glorfindel murmured soothingly, drawing me close to him as he played with my hair. "Nothing to worry about, my Rhodri. All is well. A small misunderstanding, that's all it was. Do not trouble yourself on it."

I nodded but didn't speak, still trying to regulate my breathing.

Glorfindel held me a little tighter and after waiting a few minutes for me to collect myself, started to speak again quietly.

"The books on the shelf were a project I had started for recording memories. If I had some free time and you were busy, I would sit and write whatever came to mind, and it turned out there was enough material for a series of them. And, well, with our appetites, it seems that what came to mind was seldom suitable to be kept within reach of anyone except the two of us. I was foolish enough to think them safe within our quarters, but when the children showed they were able to read, I realised there was a problem with their location."

He loosened his grip a little and wiped under my eye with his thumb. "But in case you're interested, they are in the top drawer of our commode. I would be thrilled if you had a look at them, perhaps even added some of your own memories in there."

My mood was on the up and up by this point as the curiosity nibbled away at me. "I could have sworn I saw you take some ten, eleven volumes off the shelf," I said with a grin.

Glorfindel's eyes shimmered as he smiled broadly now. "Mmm, and there were more scattered around our bedroom that I had to collect and put away, too. I found that sometimes when you were working and I was alone, they made rather excellent reading material, though I say so myself…" He turned onto his side and pressed his body against mine, and I found something hard gently grinding against me, stirring that part of me out of dormancy.

"Haaa…" I groaned gently as the ache of arousal returned in full force.

"Goodness me, close again already?" Glorfindel murmured in amusement.

"I didn't get any release the first time around," I hissed as I sought his lips.

"Let's do something about that," he replied, smiling as I nodded, swallowing hard. Climbing on top of me and spreading my legs, he slipped inside me as he finally let his mouth be in reach of mine.

I snatched him into a forceful, entreating kiss and wrapped my legs around him, pushing him deeper into me as I scraped my nails up his back. The pressure had already built up to dangerous levels, licking at my insides like flames, and I knew I couldn't stave it off much longer.

"Glorfindel, I- aah" my words were cut off as he started to move in and out in deep, slow motions, "I can't hold back much more…" I locked my legs to keep him still.

"Then don't," he murmured tenderly. "Let go for me. Let me finish my Rhodri."

I slowly relaxed my limbs and as he resumed his steady pace, the urgency returned within a fraction of a second. This time, though, I wasn't able to summon the self-control to stop proceedings, and a moment later an orgasm started to tear through me. Frantically, I grabbed Glorfindel and pulled him into a bruising kiss to stifle the noise as my insides exploded and made me a howling, writhing mess.

"Right," I said breathlessly a few seconds later, my ears ringing and hands still shaking a little from the aftershocks. "Your turn."

I flipped a surprised Glorfindel onto his back and resumed my earlier position, pinning him under me now as I lowered myself onto his throbbing erection again and started to get into a rhythm. He was a magnificent sight from where I was, his blonde hair drenched with sweat and scattered around him like a huge, golden halo, chest firm and taut and arms like rocks as he clutched onto my hips. His brows were drawn and this time as he bit his lip, there was no smile underneath, just desperation. I tightened myself around him and picked up my pace a little, and Glorfindel's eyes shut tightly in response.

"Rh-Rhodri…" he gasped. "Oh, I'm so close…"

I brought myself down deeply on him and without moving again, I held his arms tightly and pinned one leg down with my own. I wrapped my other leg around the underside of the bed to keep him from thrusting up.

His eyes opened in confusion, looking a little hazy as they rolled up at me. "Rhodri?" he said, panting. "What are you doing?"

"Did you forget what I said earlier?" I enquired with an evil smile, clenching my inner muscles a little. "I told you I'd have you begging, didn't I?"

He gaped at me. "What do you mean?"

I loosened my leg's grip on the bed and resumed my motions in agonising slowness. Just as Glorfindel started to throw his head back, I went still again.

"I mean," I whispered to him as I leaned in, "that I'm not going to make this easy on you. You think you can just torture me like you did back there without any retribution?"

"Rhodri…" he murmured as his hips jerked upwards violently, knocking that small bundle of nerves inside me and eliciting a hiss of pleasure out of me before I could conceal it.

A smirk passed over Glorfindel's frenetic face, and he did it again, only even harder this time. My fists clenched onto his arms tightly as I cursed appallingly. I was still reeling from the first climax, and one or two more of those movements would have thrown me headfirst into the second one.

Determined not to let him win round two of this, I slowly started to grind my hips against his, keeping an angle that, though intensely enjoyable, at least delayed my finishing a little- more than Glorfindel, anyway, if his moans were anything to go by.

"So, beloved, where to from here?" I asked softly as I locked him down again, brushing my lips over his and giving them a gentle nip.

Glorfindel's face was covered in hot, salty sweat now, and when he looked up at me wordlessly, his jewel-blue eyes were wide with lust.

"Rhodri," he whispered, mouth slackened a little. "Please… finish me… I can't take it…"

"Gladly," I murmured, and as I eased up and started to move, he bucked his pelvis up again and sent a shockwave through me that went to my fingertips.

"Christ," I gasped, so close to the edge now that my entire body was quivering. The slightest bit of contact with that spot would have meant game over, and I was desperate to keep enough control to give him what he had asked for. "Glorfindel…"

His eyes crinkled at the sides, which looked to be about all the smile he could manage as he lay there, panting heavily.

"I'm not going to be in a position to finish you off if you do that again," I informed him in as calm of a voice as I could muster. "Come to that, I'm not going to be in a position to do much of anything, I don't think."

Glorfindel blinked slowly and a small smile curved up the sides of his mouth. He had used that expression so many times to get something he wanted, whether it was to get a pair of overalls or to ask me to bring him a piece of cake when he was too comfortable to get up, and he knew I couldn't resist it.

I chuckled and sighed before carefully, carefully resuming. Glorfindel's eyes grew wider as his breath started to become sharp and staccato, the ultimate sign he was right on the precipice. The pressure was building to alarm bell-ringing levels again in me now, too, but I was satisfied Glorfindel would at least finish first.

Sure enough, moments later, he gasped in a quiet whimper, "Oh- Rhodri, I'm-" before descending into a soft but throaty moan, and whether he did it intentionally or not, I never did find out, but as he rode the pleasure out, his hips made one more especially forceful, seemingly well-aimed buck.

And that was it for me. The most vicious orgasm I can recall hit me like a hurricane, and the cruel irony of it all is that I don't remember any of it, as everything went dark a second after it kicked in.

My memory started again when I blearily opened my eyes a short time after, my ears ringing slightly and circles popping in front of my eyes. Glorfindel was propped up on his side, running his fingers through my hair and smiling at me with tired but satisfied lovingness.

"Ah, nice to have you back again," he murmured pleasantly.

"How did I get from above you to lying beside you here?" I asked in confusion.

It was revealed that upon peaking, my arms and legs completely gave out on me, and I toppled onto Glorfindel like a house of cards.

"And you moaned my name into my ear no fewer than _four_ times," he added with a roguish smile. "Most gratifying, I must say. I think this evening will have to go into the books."

I blinked, waiting for my brain to switch on non-essential functions like conversation again.

Glorfindel laughed. "Come, beloved. We should wash off and get some sleep."

Nodding numbly, I hauled myself out of bed and followed my substantially more functional spouse into the bathroom to clean off before dressing and shambling off to wherever the hell it was I fell asleep.


	101. 101 Reparations

**NOTE BEFORE THE AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I wrote this in the last chapter as well about an hour ago, but naturally, that's not the place to put it: I have no idea why reviews aren't showing up. It's happened to me a few times before while writing _Pathology, _though. I believe it's a server-wide issue, and I imagine people have already contacted admins to get it sorted out. I imagine it'll be fixed within the week. It's definitely nothing on my end, as I wave through all reviews (except for one once because it was a duplicate. All the reviews you bunch have sent saying you can't see reviews are gonna age like fine wine :P

**Author's note: **Holy dooley! You kind folks left a lot of reviews this time around. Thanks heaps for the congratulations! ^_^ Congrats to you, too! Let the good times (continue to) roll! Drink water! Eat ya veg (where possible)! Surviving is thriving and you're doing a mighty fine job!

**Amy: **I have a feeling that the low population thing is more a consequence than anything else. It takes a lot more for Elves to make kids than humans, apparently being rather taxing on the spirit, which is why Feanor's mother, Miriel, died shortly after his birth. I don't think Rhodri is affected in the same way as Elves because she has inherent regenerative powers, but I think she'll be leaving the option of more kids for Glorfindel to decide because the production of Taureth and Tauros was vastly more demanding for him.

**Cathy: **It's true that the primary evil-doer in all that was Melkor. But at the same time, the Noldor who took part in the Kinslayings did a horrifically bad thing. They were puppets, but they had thoughts and desires of their own. They could have said "No, I won't," and indeed some did, and even those Elves had to ask a lot of pardon for going down that path in the first place. "I was only following orders" is an excuse that will only get you so far when you consciously do something as egregious as killing someone, and rightly so.

**Paisley: **At the moment, it's the ones who participated in the Kinslayings. I dunno if they'll open the borders a bit more later, but it'd be nice if they did.

**Guest: **No no, Glorfindel had eyes for Rhodri the day he came into her office to welcome her. He was all sorts of happy when he found out she was a Maia, though, that's for sure. Noting that the first thing that came to mind when she asked him for a fact about Maiar is that they live forever. ;)  
If you want another couple of easter eggs about Glorfindel around that time, a really subtle one is in chapter 6. His diary entries describing his dreams and the day after. You'll see that he woke up in a low mood after the nightmare, and that Elrond (his favourite person ever) improved it, but Rhodri made it 10/10. The other one for Glorfindel is a few chapters later (11) when Rhodri explains lucid dreaming to him and he's quietly happy that he can dream about anything he likes now. Not necessarily explicit things, but damned fool Rhodri had no idea what was going on and as far as he knew, she didn't return his feelings. Nice way to be with someone, I guess, if real life isn't an option.

As for Rhodri, who never did get the picture until Glorfindel drew it for her, she knew Glorfindel was somehow different rather early on. And that's kind of the difficulty, because this is all written from her perspective, so whatever goes on around her is informed by her worldview. All the stuff that could indicate she was very attached to Glorfindel is ambiguous at best, because she thought it was all platonic. As it happened, though, it ended up being not-platonic after all and it hit her like a freight train. Here's a couple, though:

17: When she informed Glorfindel that no, there was nothing between her and Gil-Galad, she was in a much better mood. It's subtle, super super subtle, to the point of ambiguity even, but she and Glorfindel both had a bouncy walk going into the dining hall together.

By chapter 22 when she said they made a great team and had started calling him 'Sunshine,' things were starting to get rolling, but the blithering tit that she is had no idea.

There is one non-ambiguous one, which goes back to when she had that conversation with Gil-Galad about Elrond thinking they were a pair (see ch 60). Gil-Galad's off his rocker saying how he likes people with black hair, and Rhodri murmurs that she prefers blondes. Naturally, she prefers _one_ blonde, but she doesn't know this. She thought she just had a thing for them. Despite giving no shits about any other blonde. Some people, honestly. Even Elrond and Celebrian knew. So embarrassing.

§

I awoke about ten minutes before Caranthir was due to show up with Galadreth to take us to breakfast and found that the bed was empty. Letting out a rather uncouth gasp, I jumped up, threw on my robes, and scuttled out to see what had happened to the other three members of my immediate family.

To my relief, I found Glorfindel the next room down, sitting and reading quietly with one child on each knee. The three of them looked up at me and smiled.

Tauros looked up at his father. "Can we talk in normal voices now?" I heard him whisper.

Glorfindel smiled and nodded, and Tauros and his sister both turned to face me, smiling broadly.

"Good morning, Mummy," he chirped happily.

"You slept! Good job!" Taureth said with an encouraging nod.

I grinned. "Hello, there," I said as I went and sat on the couch beside Glorfindel. Taureth, who was on the knee closest to Glorfindel, slid over onto my knee, and Tauros hopped off and walked over, climbing onto my remaining available knee.

"Thanks for the positive feedback," I said to Taureth appreciatively. "Congratulations to the three of you on sleeping as well."

"Did you fly last night, too?" Tauros asked me, his grey eyes shining with delight.

"Fly?" I returned blankly. "Too? When did you fly?"

"Last night while I was asleep," he replied, pointing out the window. "I was helping Arien move the sun."

And suddenly it clicked: he'd been dreaming. I glanced at Taureth. "Did you do anything while you were asleep?"

She nodded. "I was on a boat with you and Tauros and Ada. I don't know where we were going, but it was very exciting."

My stomach dropped. Was this just a coincidence, or had the kid had some sort of prophetic dream?

I decided to put it to the back of my mind. A dream is a dream, prophetic or not, and the information she had given me wasn't really enough to say it was anything special.

"You had something called a dream, both of you. They're thoughts or pictures you have when you're asleep."

"Ooh," Tauros enthused. "I think I want to sleep more in the nights now, if I get to have more of those." His sister voiced her eager agreement.

"_I hope you're listening to this, beloved," _I murmured to Glorfindel over the brainwaves. "_The children may have scheduled sleep time from now on."_

Glorfindel almost imperceptibly bit his lip as his eyes darted to me and then back to the offspring.

"Fair enough," he said to them with a smile. "With enough practice, you can dream about whatever you wish."

Glorfindel glanced up at me again, and I could have sworn I caught a wink. I squinted a little, thinking back to when he spoke to me about lucid dreaming. He had smiled to himself quietly and said, "Now I can dream about whatever I wish."

My eyes widened a little. All the subtle signs he'd given over the years that I had completely missed… it had me floored. How many of those had there been? I cringed to think. I felt my cheeks grow a little warm, and quickly said, "We'll have to save the instruction on dream control for a little later, though, and head out. Caranthir and Galadreth will be here any moment to escort us for breakfast, and then they're going to show us around Formenos. Isn't that exciting?"

The progeny nodded fervently, looking thrilled to bits now. Together, the four of us stood up and wound our way downstairs to the foyer where our other travelling companions were waiting.

Perfect timing, too, because Caranthir and Galadreth showed up moments later and took us to the halls, where the tables were laid out with all sorts of breads, freshly-picked fruits that still had the morning dew on them, and more types of yoghurt than there were ways to stress out Elrond. I was relieved to note that there were no baked beans on the table, because had that been the case, I would have probably picked up the house in Alqualonde and plonked it down here, never to depart again. Those beans have a far more powerful hold on me than I would like to admit.

After we had eaten and drunk to elegant sufficiency, Caranthir and Galadreth, joined by Caranthir's brothers, collected us all in what I presume was the first ever tour group in Elven history, and we started walking through the citadel.

It really was a hell of a place. There was a lovely balance between residential, leisure, and industrial buildings wherever we went, never a shortage of any one thing nor an excess of another. Parks were everywhere, and the city was planned out so that everything was a short, easy walk from everything else. Wherever you were, there was a beautiful view of either the buildings, the background, or both. It was, it seemed, difficult to be in a bad mood when one was surrounded in all direction by such an appealing backdrop.

Our tour took about an hour and led us past particularly striking edifices such as the public library, a performance hall, forges and training yards, and even a glassblowing facility. There was also a cluster of open-plan buildings which we were informed to be where all public administration work was undertaken.

"Of all the changes we had to make to the city, adjusting the administrative section was the most extensive," Maedhros informed us. "My father had meant for this area to be almost impenetrable, as that was where he would meet with us and his allies to talk about the Silmarils or strategic things."

"You'll see here," Amras pointed to a thick, dark stripe on the ground, "That there was a wall here. Adar set up a labyrinth around the main buildings, and those who didn't know the way in who guessed wrong would end up ensnared in the traps he had built into the other passages."

I gulped. Feanor sounded like a terrifying person to be around. It's one thing to be a poorly-intentioned, unscrupulous person in general, but because he was among the most gifted and clever of the Noldor- if not _the_ most gifted and clever, he was especially dangerous to have as an enemy.

"If you agree to our proposal, Rhodri, this would be your office. It has been set aside for you since we started fixing the building," Caranthir said to me, indicating a door that was not far from the main meeting room of the administrative powers. "Come, you can see inside."

We followed him over to the outside of the building, and he opened the door, inviting us inside.

I was impressed by what I saw, I won't lie. The would-be office was like what I had now but fancier, and reminded me a lot of the study my grandfather had had. The room was dotted with peaceful artworks and exquisite sculptures, a handsome, mahogany desk in the middle behind a large window with luxurious, thick curtains in front of it. Even the filing cabinet looked expensive; it appeared to have been French polished, with delicate knot patterns carved up the legs. The atmosphere of the place overall was more like the sort of thing you'd envision for an interview with Mozart or some similarly influential Baroque entity, but I could easily envision a calm, welcoming atmosphere for people to share their troubles with me.

"This is absolutely lovely," I breathed as I looked around.

"We chose this specific place because it is the only room that does not have access via other rooms, to ensure complete privacy," Caranthir added.

"What's that one there, then?" I asked, pointing at a door that was off to the left of the desk.

"Ah, that is the spare room," he answered with a smile, going and opening it. "It can only be accessed through this office, so you could use the room for whatever you pleased."

I peeked inside and saw that it was largely empty, with polished cedar floors and enough space for a small party. It would have been the ideal room for hosting group sessions.

Stepping back out into the corridors to return to the guest house (read: guest mansion), Glorfindel shot me a small smirk.

"_Someone is tempted."_

I smiled back nervously. "_It really is a very nice office…"_

"_And spare room."_

I rolled my eyes. "_Yes, the spare room was lovely, too."_

The end of our accompanied browse found us out in front of the mansion we'd been put up in.

"Well, I think that covers all of the main parts of Formenos," Amrod said cheerfully. "The rest remains for you to discover for yourselves."

"Thanks very much for the tour," I said appreciatively. "It really is a magnificent city. You and the residents have every reason to be proud to live here."

The four sons of Feanor glowed at the praise, and Caranthir replied, "Well, you are all most welcome to call Formenos your home as well. If you end up accepting our proposal, Rhodri, the quarters you are presently staying in will be yours permanently, reserved for the use of you and your family."

I found myself cooing with delight at the thought of sipping on a cup of tea on that balcony, watching the sun come up.

They smiled. "Again, do not rush with your answer. Give it time, talk it through with your family. Formenos won't be going anywhere any time soon," Maedhros said with a kind smile.

"In the meantime, though, I wonder if some of you might come with us so that we can perhaps initiate some discussions on trade and reparations," Caranthir requested. "Ideally at least Rhodri and Glorfindel, and also King Gil-Galad and King Turgon, but anyone else who wishes to join is encouraged to do so."

"We can look after Taureth and Tauros for you while you're gone, you two," Celebrian offered to Glorfindel and me as she gestured at herself and Elrond. "We'll go to the park awhile."

Elrond nodded in agreement, and I looked up at Tauros, who had been perched peacefully on my shoulders the entire time, gawping at the view like his sister was.

"Ah, lovely," I said gratefully, slipping Tauros off my shoulders and setting him on the ground.

"Lucky sprout, do you hear that?" I said to him as I planted a quick kiss on his head. "You get to go to the park Auntie Celebrian and Uncle Elrond!"

He looked up at me and beamed, waiting for Taureth to join him on the pavement as they scuttled over to their babysitters.

The group that ended up following Caranthir and co. back to the administration building consisted of the requested party members, plus Ecthelion, Egalmoth, Rog, and Erestor. It was only at that point that I realised that the first three plus Turgon still appeared to be playing some significant roles in Tirion. Rog's house, for example, had consisted of some of the most fearsome and valiant warriors, and now, they bulked out a not-insignificant amount of Tirion's defences. Ecthelion, who was famed for his musical talents, had taken up some sort of role as minister for culture and the arts- quite a far cry from his days as the escort of Very Important People, but he seemed pleased with it. Egalmoth had been famed for being fabulously wealthy and for his displays of said fortune that brought the term "conspicuous consumption" to mind in short order. I accidentally snorted when he told me in a serious face that he dialled it down these days, because I saw he had enough rings on his fingers and jewels affixed to him to shame even the most ostentatious of the Dwarf-lords.

"_Ai_, why does everyone laugh at me when I say that?" bemoaned Egalmoth, rolling his eyes at me.

"I can't imagine," I gasped before lapsing into an uncouth wheeze. "Some people, huh?"

Don't mistake me, he was a lovely guy. Really sweet and friendly, terrific archer, and he was good with the kids, too, but Jesus Christ in a sidecar, those moments where money came into it turned him into a top candidate for the Upper-Class Twit of the Year.

Naturally, Egalmoth dealt with trade and shiny things. As for Turgon, well, I suppose he was a mediator. You know how it is with monarchs; nobody quite knows what they're doing there, but they're Very Big and Important, so they have to be present.

"Now," Caranthir said as he sat us all down. "We don't necessarily anticipate being able to strike up any trade deals any time soon. Of primary interest to us at this point is the discussion of how we might move forward with reparations."

"Naturally," Maedhros continued, "we are not in any position to approach King Olwe to initiate discussions, and we would rather avoid Tirion as affected people live there also. If it is agreeable to you, we would appreciate it if we could relay messages and proposals through you and reach consensus that way."

My delegates and I looked at each other and nodded.

"We will be happy to help however we can," Turgon said with a gentle nod. He, along with everyone else who had come to Formenos, seemed very pleased with how things had turned out here. Even Rog, who out of the Gondolin lords was the least trustful of Caranthir and co., nodded his head now.

Discussions on reparations alone ended up taking some two hours as we established who was in need of which thing, and what Formenos had to offer now, or could feasibly be brought into abundance. Most impressively, there was no timeline for giving. None of Feanor's sons anticipated that the act of paying reparations was a finite event. They didn't even suggest asking what they thought was an acceptable period; they were ready to keep this up in perpetuity.

Eventually, we reached consensus on a few things: any scholarly discoveries made in Formenos would be made available for the benefit of the other realms as well. Special crops that grew particularly well in the region would also be delivered regularly to whichever of the cities wished to have them, and there would also be a cut from any mining activity automatically allocated to both Alqualonde and Tirion. These, we felt, were very generous offers and not in poor taste; there was no attempt to push the culture of Formenos on the other cities through donating artworks and literature. The gifts were either functional or luxurious in a culturally neutral sense.

Thankfully, trade was not a topic that had any urgency to it. For better or for worse, Formenos had been planned exceptionally well by Feanor, and the city was self-sufficient. Any trade deals were merely convenience or to establish goodwill between realms. Still, we gained some proposals for items like glass blowing equipment, special wood that grew in the forests to the north, and a handful of different textiles made from local plants.

All in all, I thought we had done a fantastic job, and I think the others were equally as satisfied when we emerged from the administrative chambers shortly before dinner time. Walking to the dining hall, I saw Elrond and Celebrian up ahead in the park a little way off to the right, sitting on a bench supervising. The park itself was a terrific idea; they'd put in a handful of trees with big, low-lying branches that had created a densely interconnected branch network- perfect for children, even very young ones, to get busy in. Splitting off from the group, Glorfindel and I went over to our devoted childminders, Glorfindel resting his head on Elrond's and mine going onto Celebrian's. They didn't react; they were used to our absurd childishness.

"How did the meeting go?" Celebrian asked, acting as though there wasn't a complete tit using her head as a shelf.

"Exceedingly well, I think," Glorfindel replied happily.

"You'll have all the details a little later, but we have some fairly solid ideas for reparations and trade deals now, I think," I continued.

"I suppose now the real test will be how Olwe in particular responds to those offers," Elrond suggested.

"Mmm," Glorfindel and I hummed in synchrony. "We'll see."

"And how have things been here?" I asked. "Did the progeny behave themselves?"

"Oh, yes," Elrond replied. "They've been good as gold, and I think they're having the time of their life up in the trees there." He gestured at the tanglewoods, where we saw Tauros and Taureth scaling the branches like chipmunks, screaming delightedly.

"I suppose we'd better get them and make for the dining hall, hmm?" Glorfindel said mostly to me, but also to our two pals.

As we went over to them, before we called to get their attention, I realised that this was the first time our children had been around people their own age. Alqualonde had a notable dearth of babies, toddlers, and even young children. Most of the people who moved back in had had their children long ago in Tirion, and I couldn't help feeling a bit guilty that our own little ones had never had the opportunity to mix with their peers. Not least because they were having a ball with the other kids in this park.

"Hello, there, offspring!" I called out to them from a metre below. They turned around from up in the branches and waved ecstatically, clambering over toward us, with two little raven-haired individuals in hot pursuit.

"Look!" Taureth said to us excitedly, pointing at the other small people behind her. "We found children!"

"They're twins, too!" Tauros added.

"Is that so?" I said with a smile. "Are you all having a nice time together?"

Our kids confirmed that they were with fervent nods, the two dark-haired ones nodding shyly in agreement.

Taureth turned back to them and pat the closest one to her on the back. "Don't be afraid," she said with a gentle smile. "They're big, but they're nice."

"I'll show you," Tauros said with a grin to the friend closer to him. "Ada, catch me?"

Glorfindel nodded, beaming as he put his arms out to snap the elder twin up as he slid off the branch.

"Mummy can do it, too," Taureth nodded encouragingly, bringing me into service as a sentient elevator as she leapt down at me. After I placed her on the ground, I looked up at the dark-haired twins, who watched us with fascination.

"Want a lift down, kiddywinks?" I asked, smiling up at them.

They both nodded, and Glorfindel and I were employed as people movers once again as we each took a kid and brought them to level G.

"Goodness, it's not often you see two sets of twins, is it?" Glorfindel said as we two bent down to be eye-level with the tiny ones. "What are your names, then?"

The child closest to Tauros was a girl with piercing green eyes and a bright face. She gave a tiny smile and in a voice that was remarkably clear for someone of her age, introduced herself as Maelind, a rather apt name meaning 'the sweet, tuneful one.' I had no doubts the child would grow up to have incredible singing talents right off the bat.

Her brother, a slightly more outgoing child (not that that was saying much), had rosy cheeks and eyes as blue as the cornflowers that grew like weeds here. I silently congratulated myself on my observation, as it turned out his name was Maeloth- 'the well-formed flower.'

Just as we went to return the favour and introduce ourselves, a voice from behind us did it for us.

"Ah, Rhodri! Glorfindel!"

The two raven-haired children ran over to the source of the noise, and when Glorfindel and I turned around, we saw Maedhros approaching us, accompanied by the children and the female guard I'd met the first two times I'd entered the city. All of them had beautiful, broad smiles on their faces.

"Hi there," I greeted them happily. "We've just had the pleasure of meeting Maelind and Maeloth. Seems these four were having a big, important meeting up in the trees while we were away talking," I gestured at the cluster of children.

"The apple never falls far from the tree," the guard remarked affably before realising we didn't know her name. "Oh, excuse me. Aeglas is my name."

"Lovely to put a name to the face," I smiled. "So these are your children, you two?"

They nodded proudly.

"I have a feeling our little ones would like to see more of yours, if it is agreeable to you," Glorfindel said as his eyes fell on our kids holding the hands of their new friends and talking quietly among themselves.

I wasn't normally one to get whacked with the cute stick, but this was almost too much for me. Taureth and Tauros looked so thrilled that I almost decided to let them skip dinner and play outside for the rest of the evening.

Luckily, Aeglas and Maedhros were very taken with the idea and within thirty seconds, a playdate had been arranged for the very next day. We walked up together to the dining hall, collecting Celebrian and Elrond on the way, feeling very pleased with ourselves.

§

That night after dinner and a few hours of chatter and music, Glorfindel and I headed up to our quarters with Tauros and Taureth, who once again were looking rather sleepy. It seemed, I realised, that the tiredness set in for them- and for me, too- either when they were doing something new and significant, like meeting children or travelling to a new place; or- and this was much rarer- when they did something that actually tapped into their reserves in terms of demandingness. Fighting with Tulkas had done it for me, as had exhaustion from sadness after returning to Imladris after the wars. Maybe all-out tutoring with Erestor would be what wore the twins out. I wasn't sure.

"This has been a terrific day, really, hasn't it?" I said to Glorfindel brightly as we sat down with freshly sanitised children.

Glorfindel nodded cheerfully, pulling a jelly-like Taureth onto his lap when she put her hands on his knees and watched up at him with a drowsy smile. Tauros, never far behind, ended up on me shortly after, and we found we weren't especially keen to put them into bed. They were such _zippy_ kids overall, and aside from mealtimes, they didn't sit still on our laps for very long these days. These rare moments when they were too stupefied to care where they were became rather precious opportunities to get a cuddle in.

"I'm starting to think that we should say yes to the offer, if only so the children can socialise with people their own age once in a while," I murmured to Glorfindel.

"Mmm," he said. "That crossed my mind as well. I would argue that any reservations we had over the children travelling too much would be offset by the benefits of any friends they made here."

"And what about you, hmm?" I asked, letting myself lean against his shoulder. "What do you think of it all?"

"Oh, I'm always ready for adventure," he beamed. "And truth be told, though I love the beach the best, I do find myself occasionally missing the change in seasons a little. They can get quite nice winters around here, and it might be nice for the children to see the falling leaves and the snow."

"God, I hadn't thought of that," I murmured in shock. My mind went back to going with my parents to the airport around Christmas time to pick up some friends of theirs who had moved out to tropical Australia after leaving school. Their kids had never seen autumn happen before, and when they stepped out of the building and saw the bare-branched trees everywhere, they descended into loud, fretful panic, thinking the world was ending.

I glanced down nervously at Tauros and Taureth before adding, "Yeah, we'd better get them used to that."

"Mummy," came a tiny croak from my lap, "when are you and Ada done talking?"

"Oh! I didn't know you were still awake, sprout," I said in surprise.

Tauros looked up at me, not quite stifling a huge yawn.

"We can't reach up there," Taureth said dozily, pointing at the bed sitting across the room, which admittedly was quite a height off the ground.

"Ah, apologies, little tiger," Glorfindel said to her, standing up with her and taking her over to the mattress.

"What animal am I?" Tauros asked me in a murmur as I followed suit.

"What would you like to be?"

"Maybe a frog."

"Jolly good. Sleep tight, then, froggie," I said as I set him down under the sheets.

Dimming the lights, Glorfindel and I stepped out of the room and went next door to create new material for those books he'd been writing.

Normally, we would have stumbled into bed and conked out after that, but I found I had the most terrific craving for nectar, and being the slave to my tastebuds that I am, I knew I wasn't going to sleep without it. And so, while Glorfindel curled up and fell asleep in what little space Taureth and Tauros had left for him on the bed, I headed outside into the pleasantly nippy night air to try and find my way to the kitchens.


	102. The forgotten art of sleeping well

**Author's note**: I've had a few questions as to whether or not I'll answer people's questions they put in reviews, and it's a yes from me. I usually wave the reviews through and then answer the questions when I've finished the chapter I'm about to upload, after which I look through the reviews and then put the answers into the chapter. I can't answer any right now because I can't see them, so yeah. Hence the delay. :P

Also, I just want to make a little note about Tauros and Taureth (because they both do it) embarrassing Rhodri and Glorfindel in public and being… just generally awkward children. Not an angry author remark, but just something to keep things in perspective. You'll notice that the atmosphere in this little world I've made is much less formal than what you'll see in canon. In **no** time/space dimension thought up by J.R.R. Tolkien would someone _ever_ say, "Play bitch games, win bitch prizes" to Gandalf. :P Or, as a group, flip Saruman off. These people are old best friends who trash talk each other, make snarky comments, and flick random objects at each other. The kids are a little naughty because _everybody _here is a little naughty. It just seems more egregious because children are meant to be a bit more biddable, but be assured, they're being raised to fit into their environment. :P The important thing here is to know when to rein it in (e.g. at funerals, or when people look upset), which the children, mercifully, caught onto without difficulty. Wait until they're old enough to learn sarcasm from Uncle Elrond. Holy taco balls, Batman, have we got a treat coming to us.

Now for the questions, and oh god there are a lot…

**Aisling: **Maglor's right where Tolkien left him: combing the beaches in Middle-Earth and being his usual contrite, gloomy self. He never died, which is probably the only reason he wasn't in Valinor at that point.

**Ellen: **No, that's right, she won't go to Mandos on death. Mandos is essentially a waiting room for Elves because they are bound to live on Eä as long as it's there, only meeting Ilúvatar once the world is ended. Mortals, on the other hand, go straight to Ilúvatar on death, bypassing the waiting room, and I guess Arwen was in it for the eternal haul. Hence choosing to be mortal, so she could follow Aragorn there.

**Leyla: **Which question did you post? I can't see your name on any of the other reviews for ch 100.

**LotrFan:  
1\. **Well they can die of grief-not just from losing a partner, though I imagine that's the easiest way to snuff it for them.  
**2\. **It took them an age to admit their feelings because Rhodri had no clue she had feelings. She's thick as two short planks, and Glorfindel was too chicken to give it a go himself in case it ruined the friendship. To be fair, Rhodri didn't give him much indication that she felt anything. Elrond and Celebrían thought there were plenty of cues but Glorfindel wasn't convinced it was proof enough to merit shooting his shot.

**3.** Rhodri had been in Middle-Earth 1743 years by the time Gil-Galad was killed in battle.

**4.** Glorfindel wasn't angry or hurt, no. Sad? Yes. Very yes. Both at the prospect of Rhodri loving another, and at the knowledge that marrying Gil-Galad would mean that she would move away from Rivendell, which meant he would either have to move, or he would only see her rarely. Was he envious of Gil-Galad? Achingly. But not angry or hurt. There was nothing to cause either of those.

**5\. '**Picture' is also a generic word for non-moving visual material consisting of materials or items that can be used to make a depiction of something. Painting, photograph, drawing- all of these are pictures. In this case, it was a painting. But still a picture. :P

**6\. **Nope. It was game over for Glorfindl the day he met her in her office to welcome her to Rivendell. :P When he found out Rhodri was a Maia, he was over the moon because it meant she wasn't going to snuff it on him some 70 years into the future.

**7\. **Yeah, they had machines at the weaver's. Not with an electricity supply, of course. All mechanical and manually operated.

**8\. **No, it didn't seem like Glorfindel or Rhodri were head over heels for each other at first sight. Not while they were in the office. And Rhodri, of course, had no idea, so she went about her day without a second thought. What we didn't see, however, was Glorfindel _after_ leaving the office. :-) He kept it together quite nicely, I thought. Perhaps a little too nicely, because he might have planted a seed had he flirted a bit with her. Still, better late than never, I guess.

**9\. **Nope, no movies, no books. She got snippets now and again via memes and general exposure to chatter about it- there were tons of references about when the films first came out, but she really had no idea. I don't think she even put 2 and 2 together about the name 'Gandalf.' Just no clue whatsoever.

**Auberon: **Not from the very first chapter, no, but to be fair, Rhodri didn't meet Glorfindel until the fourth chapter, so there's that. By then, though, I wanted at least expressions of interest. But because Rhodri is such a nitwit, they'll be quite ambiguous and will mostly (mostly!) just seem like Glorfindel is VERY happy to see her and speak with her.

**Cher: **I think they do, but at a range of not much to nearly nothing.

**Acacia: **Correct-a-mundo. I don't think Rhodri ever got with anyone in a romantic sense while she was in London, which continues to baffle me because even in London, she was very good-looking. But then again, she was bad at picking up signals at some two-and-a-bit thousand years of age, so god only knows how many people she had quietly mooning about for her. I will say this, though: when she was working at the children and families clinic while doing her PhD, a _lot_ of bold-as-brass single fathers hit on her quite openly, which she was not pleased about in the slightest. Talk about super-inappropriate.

**Shena: **Yeah, this is complex. Maiar are more powerful than Elves and less so than the Valar, so yes, in that sense, they are in the upper class. Also in terms of knowledge and access to the Valar, I think the Maiar are superior to the Elves in that sense, too. They don't have any authority over the Elves, though. But because Elven society is soooo hierarchical in terms of who has more power and influence, the Maiar, I think, do have the upper hand, and can do the "I know best" rank-pulling, which any of the Elves who know of the goings-on in Valinor know better than to dismiss.

**Millicent: **I think they can. Sweating is a very practical and quick way of regulating body temperature when things get too hot. It's possible that Elves don't heat up when they engage in exercise, but I don't know how that would be physically possible. Like the basic bodily processes that keep us alive generate enough heat to keep us at around 36-37 degrees Celsius, so when we ramp it up and exercise, those processes up the ante accordingly, which produces extra heat, and then the blood vessels widen and go to the surface of the skin to cool down and we sweat and pant etc. Those measures happen when we are in ambient heat as well, but the Elves don't really get affected by the weather unless it's really extreme, like when the Noldor crossed the Helcaraxë and a number of them died of the cold there. Must've been pretty nippy.

**Pascal: **Yes! See Acacia's question above

§

To be honest, I'd quite forgotten what it was like to have seasons, or even a temperature that went outside of the 20-30 degree range. And only after three to four years of living in Alqualondë!

The tiny breeze that whisked around my face, though, was cooler than anything Alqualondë could produce, even when Formenos appeared to be drawing toward the end of summer. Though it wasn't uncomfortable by any stretch, it prompted what was in hindsight a rather theatrical "_Ooh!"_ as I wrapped my outer robe around me tighter.

Embarrassed, I looked around to see if anyone had caught me reacting to seemingly nothing. Nope, the coast was clear. It looked as though people here didn't care to be out and about in the small hours. Satisfied, I continued on the path to the kitchens and collected a rather large glass of peach nectar to take back to bed.

Strolling back with my prize in hand, I could feel my mouth watering as the gentle perfume of the drink was blown in my direction. It was hugely tempting to knock the entire thing back in one go, but I knew I would enjoy it more if I drank it reclining in bed like I was sipping cocktails on a lounge by the pool.

In an attempt to distract myself from this toothsome-looking beverage, I looked away to the small, grassy hill opposite the park where Tauros and Taureth had played. To my surprise, I caught sight of Elrond sitting at the top of the hill, legs crossed and leaning back on his hands as he gazed up at the stars. For someone who enjoyed astronomy as much as he did, he didn't appear to be having an especially good time. Quite the contrary, in fact. He seemed rather weary and off-colour.

I'd been a little hesitant to have Elrond along with us to Formenos, mostly because he would find himself face-to-face with people who had essentially been responsible for Elrond and Elros' orphan status so early in life. That had to be hard to come to terms with, and I had toyed with the idea of asking him to stay home, but Elrond had acted like we were journeying to any other place. He had seemed fairly happy in Formenos so far, but it was clear from looking at him now that it wasn't all sunshine and roses.

Stepping off the path and walking up the hill, I sat down beside him and gently knocked into him with my shoulder.

"Hi, there," I said quietly. "Want some company?"

Elrond's mercury eyes went on me for a moment and he nodded softly.

Nodding back, I took a sip of nectar and passed the glass to him. "You don't have to be in Formenos if you don't want to, El. I can't imagine how hard it would be coming to a place like this, even if they've repented and made a little paradise all their own."

He accepted the glass, took a mouthful of the sweet drink, and let out a puff of air. "I don't regret coming," he said after a moment. "But I must say, I didn't think it through very much before accepting, so I suppose it has been rather confronting."

"It must be evoking an awful lot of feelings," I probed a little, knowing this was going to be an Extract Things From Elrond sort of evening.

"Mmm," he confirmed. "More than I had anticipated, actually."

"More in number, or more in variety?"

He frowned. "Perhaps both," he mused, taking another sip of nectar and passing the glass back to me.

"What's at the forefront of your mind? In frequency or type, it doesn't matter which." I balanced the glass on the ground between us and leaned back on my hands.

"I wish I knew the word for it."

"Want to try describing it, or would you rather I guessed?"

Elrond's eyebrows raised a little at the latter, and he looked distinctly tempted at the prospect of Rhodri doing preliminary digging. He declared that he would like me to guess, and so I began.

"I imagine you'd be feeling a lot of things right now," I said pensively. "Maybe some anger and sadness, or a mix of the two: resentment, that these people who did such unthinkable things are now doing so very well for themselves."

Elrond gave a half-hearted shrug and nodded a little. "At first, yes, but much less so now. Keep guessing."

I complied. "Perhaps also some unease, not so much with Caranthir, but certainly Maedhros, since he orchestrated the last kinslaying that cost you your mother, and he Maglor were the ones to find you and Elros. Though, it always sounded as though Maglor was the kinder of the two to you and your brother..."

Elrond nodded, this time a little harder. "There has been a lot of unease, it's true. Maedhros was never cruel to Elros and me personally, but he did stage a whole war around forcing my mother to yield a Silmaril." He closed his eyes and sighed sadly. "All that for a jewel."

"Do you know what the strange thing is, though, Rhodri?" he continued after a moment. "Now that we are here, and I have seen for myself how changed Maedhros and Caranthir and all these Noldor are, it has stirred up a new set of feelings all on its own."

"Do those new feelings conflict with the ones you already had?"

"_Conflict!" _he exclaimed quietly, facing me with an almost shocked expression. "Yes, that's the word! _Conflict._ They fight with each other, but the strange thing is that I don't hate the impact of the new feelings. I'm almost glad that they're shaking up the old feelings of pain and anger that have been on my mind ever since I saw Caranthir in Alqualonde. I think I have even been holding a grudge over it, dare I say for almost my whole life."

"So what kind of thing do you think the new feelings are telling you?"

Something started to change in Elrond's countenance at that moment. He shut his eyes and tilted his head back, a curiously tense calmness keeping his skin smooth but his facial muscles rigid. He drew in a long, silent breath through his nostrils and slowly let it out through his mouth. Finally, he opened his eyes, looked at me, and spoke.

"Do you know, Rhodri, I think I might be ready to forgive them. They are clearly remorseful, and they have come such a long way."

I raised my eyebrows a little. "You're never under any obligation to forgive them, Elrond, no matter how reformed they may be. There is nothing that someone can do to entitle them to forgiveness- not for crimes of that magnitude. If you decide to forgive anyone, do it for yourself, not because they're showing contrition."

"Oh, I think it will do wonders for me," Elrond said with a weak chuckle. "It takes an awful lot of energy to hold a grudge, it seems, and who knows, perhaps it might be key to getting a little more peace inside."

"If you feel ready to do that, I think you need to keep in mind just what you are forgiving them for so that you can get the maximum benefit."

He watched me with confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"Allow me, for a moment, to be your psychologist," I requested. "You'll recall that in our earlier sessions, we decided that a large part of your poor self-esteem is due to the near-impossible standards you set for yourself compared to what you expect of others."

Elrond looked completely baffled now. "How does that have anything to do with this?"

"It has _everything_ to do with this, because in forgiving someone, you admit that they are in the wrong and are the ones who failed to act in a way that could reasonably be expected of them. _Them,_ Elrond, not _you." _I pointed at him gently.

"I know you said you first started feeling badly about yourself when Maglor left," I ventured, "but is it at all possible that you learned unhealthy standards a little before that? Some five, six years before that, when this Kinslaying happened, perhaps?"

"Possibly," he conceded, "Though I'm not quite sure how."

"Well, how did you make sense of what was happening at that time? How does a child of six process their mother throwing herself into the sea and themselves winding up in a cave with their twin?"

"I'm sure it doesn't lend itself to the healthiest worldview," he conceded.

"I very much agree," I said with a nod. "If I can make a suggestion, think it through a little more before you offer any forgiveness. Wait until you know for certain what they did wrong, what they ought to be sorry for, and what you are willing to pardon."

Elrond chewed on his lip, looking dissatisfied and a little deflated.

I picked up the half-full nectar glass, took a tiny sip, and handed it to Elrond. "It's not a race," I said with a smile. "Formenos isn't going anywhere, and forgiveness isn't perishable."

"Where do you get all this advice from?" he asked, returning the smile and taking a deep draught of nectar.

"Remember those psychology degrees I said I might as well shove up my arse?"

Elrond paused, his cheeks full of liquid and his eyes wide as he looked at me. He made a small, muffled, "Mmph?" before swallowing. "Do they give you ideas? Are they magic?"

"For what I paid to do them, they'd better do both _and_ sing me to sleep," I muttered under my breath.

My best friend sat there in exquisite puzzlement, but he seemed to accept my sentiments without asking for clarification.

"Oh, speaking of psychology," I quickly added as the thought hit me. "If you need to speak to me in that capacity while we're here, come up to my quarters. Glorfindel can take the offspring to the park."

"Mm," he murmured with a nod. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind. Though I must say, I think I have a lot to think about for the next little while."

"I reckon you do."

§

Of all the places I had suspected I would slip into a normal that most closely resembled what I had expected to do in London, Formenos would have seemed to be the least likely of them. And yet, here I was, in a thriving city (which, granted, was much smaller than London, but never got boring), attending playdates, meeting new people, and helping out where I could. It was so deliciously stereotypical that I could scarcely believe it was a segment out of my own life.

Glorfindel and I just couldn't get enough of the place. Granted, it would never take the prime position that Alqualondë (and Imladris, if we let ourselves get nostalgic) both occupied, but as a vacation destination, we were keen as beans to be like those fabulously wealthy people that had a holiday home.

When we were able to get a moment alone with him, we told Caranthir that we had decided to accept his proposition, he was thrilled.

"Oh, _excellent!" _he said with a warm, joyful smile. "The people here are ready to make the very best of their new lives as they can, and with that help, they will be best equipped to do that. Now, in terms of compensation, what can we offer you two?"

Glorfindel and I looked at each other and shrugged. "I don't think there is anything we are in need of as repayment. Access to the public services while we are here?"

Caranthir shook his head. "That goes without saying. You are entitled to those already. Think of something you _want, _not what you _need._"

"Do we really need to be repaid just because I'm doing my job?" I asked, feeling a little awkward. I hadn't been paid extra for my work in millennia. Elves being a communal sort of folk, it felt unseemly to accept anything extra for work when nobody else did.

"How about this," I suggested. "We're allowed to bring guests with us if we want, assuming they meet your security clearance requirements."

Glorfindel nodded. This meant that we could, for example, bring Glorfindel's parents when they fancied a holiday. They were as keen as their son to dive into the novel and exciting, so Formenos would be a real treat for them.

Caranthir's face fell a little. "That was also guaranteed already. You really can't think of anything you want for repayment?"

"Don't be offended," I said with a smile. "We are not among the people you make reparations to. In fact, I shouldn't be receiving gifts as a psychologist anyway, as that can make things seem rather suspicious, so if you want to keep it all above board, I suggest we leave it that way."

His eyebrows raised, and he nodded. "I hadn't realised that. In that case, we are agreed on the guest policy." Caranthir gave another resolute nod, seemingly satisfied now.

"When do you think you will be able to start?" he asked politely.

Ah. We hadn't discussed that yet. I glanced at Glorfindel, only to find that he was glancing at me. Both of us, it seemed, had rather hoped that the other would know the answer, but the reality was neither of us did.

"Couldn't say for certain," I replied. "We might need as long as a year for me to arrange things with my clients back home if I can't get speedier transportation worked out when going between Formenos and Alqualondë."

"How much notice will you need before we arrive?" Glorfindel asked.

Caranthir chuckled a little. "None at all. You can come and go as you please from here. The city is as much your home as anyone else's- so long as you wish it to be, of course."

I almost started shaking my head at Caranthir's turnaround again, but decided that now was no time for that sort of thing. Instead, we smiled at him, said our thanks, and left him again. Glorfindel and I made our way back to the park where Aunt Celebrían and Uncle Elrond, once again, were supervising our offspring.

"Let's leave off telling anyone about accepting Caranthir's proposal, all right?" I requested. "Just for a little bit."

"Oh?" Glorfindel's eyebrows raised a tad in curiosity.

"I think quite a few members of the Bib-and-Brace Club are still somewhat affected by the things that Fëanor's sons got up to. Might be wise to just let them heal up a bit first before we tell them we'll be disappearing for a few months now and then."

"How long should we wait?"

"Hm. Let's tell them a week before we leave Formenos. Gives us time to hear their concerns and talk to Caranthir about it. What do you think?"

He nodded. "I trust your judgement."

"Excellent, because I happened to make the judgement that you are looking even more gob-smackingly gorgeous today than you were yesterday."

"_Ooh!" _Glorfindel rolled his eyes delightedly as a small blush crept over his cheeks. "Goodness, you do know how to sweep me off my feet."

I arched one brow a little and, quick as a snake, I scooped him off the ground and into my arms ("Oh _my_, beloved!").

"Quite a straightforward process, really," I said with a small shrug as I carried him through the streets. "Step one: lift gorgeous spouse off the ground. Step two not needed, as gorgeous spouse is off his feet."

"Mmm," he purred, oozing all his confidence and charm as he lay in my arms like he was in a recliner. True to form, he did it all while giving zero figs what the bewildered passers-by thought.

§

"You're- you're going back to Arda?" Celebrian exclaimed, both she and Elrond gaping at Glorfindel and me. "For how long?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "When Irmo told me about what I would be doing, he said I would return to Valinor on the last boat departing Middle-Earth."

Elrond watched me carefully as he softly said, "Rhodri, do you think we could maybe come with you?"

The question hit me like a ton of bricks. Oh, god. This was courting disaster. Going out of reach of Valinor's protective powers meant Glorfindel got nightmares from one traumatic but brief incident. What in the world could I expect from the two sitting across from me? Celebrian had undergone such prolonged torture at the hands of her captors, and then she worsened as she stayed on in Middle-Earth for the year after that. And as for Elrond, after the multiple disasters that had shaped his life… I shuddered to think what would befall both of them as soon as we were out of range.

"You don't really want that, do you?" I said hoarsely.

"We would love to see the children again," Elrond whispered, Celebrian nodded as she put her arms around his shoulders. "Your talk of going back is as though we have one more tangible opportunity to do that."

I closed my eyes a moment as a dull, throbbing ache went through me. I rifled through my head, trying desperately to find a pain-free direction for this conversation to go in, but nothing made itself apparent, or even played hard-to-get. Turning them down would, of course, crush them. Allowing them to come, knowing that Arwen's death would be the blow that express-shipped them off to Mandos, would be excruciatingly painful to the point that I wasn't sure how well I'd be able to do the job I was sent there to do.

"I… ah…" I vocalised weakly, scrubbing my cheeks with the palms of my hands. "That's got a lot of consequences to it. Very big ones…"

"That isn't lost on us, Rhodri," Celebrian admitted, nodding sympathetically.

"We would accept those consequences, of course," Elrond said.

Something in that statement made me seethe a little.

"Oh, so you're fine with making us suffer as we watch you die of grief, are you?" The words were out before I could stop them, and they were laced with an irritation I couldn't recall ever feeling toward them both before.

Glorfindel blanched, and Elrond and Celebrian watched me in surprise.

"W-well, Rhodri, we will go back to Valinor anyway, so why not?" Elrond attempted feebly.

"Oh, Elrond!" Glorfindel groaned exasperatedly (much to my surprise). "You know perfectly well that returning to Valinor by boat is not the same as your fea abandoning your hroa for Mandos!"

"Come now, Glorfindel, that is of little consequence to the two of you, surely. You can see us in Mandos," Elrond returned, his voice getting stronger as he started to dig his heels in.

We both gaped at them.

"You can't be serious," I whispered in disbelief. "You aren't looking me in the eye, Elrond, and saying to me that witnessing the two of you languish and die of grief in Middle-Earth is going to be anything less than traumatic for us. You couldn't possibly be."

"But Arwen- this is our last opportunity to see her," Celebrian pleaded. "Please don't take that away from us."

"Celebrian, I _never_ offered for you or Elrond to come along. I don't even want to go on this bastarding mission myself, but I have no option-"

"The fear of watching us die compared to the joy of seeing Arwen again seems to be relatively small to us, Rhodri," Elrond snapped, but I cut him off again.

"Don't go there. Don't do it. Keep pushing me and I'll move to Formenos, I swear to god, Elrond," I whispered furiously.

"It's _SELFISH_, Rhodri!" Elrond shouted angrily, his eyes brimming with tears. A noisy sob came out of him, and I saw that Celebrian was also tearstained by now.

Glorfindel clapped a hand to his chest, looking wounded and indignant.

"How _dare_ you speak to my wife like that!" he admonished Elrond, but Elrond seemed not to notice.

I stood up from the sofa and started to round on Elrond and Celebrian, feeling my gaze ooze with venom as I watched them. I knew perfectly well that parents got very desperate when it came to their children, and that the love and concern for their well being could drive them to rather unscrupulous deeds. But at that point, I didn't care.

"Selfish," I echoed, my voice shaking. "Selfish, am I? My entire life, I've been picking you up and dusting you off, Elrond! I've comforted you through tears and worries innumerable times and bent over backwards to keep your life as comfortable as possible for you, because I know how it is to lose everything!" My voice rose to a shout now as I pointed a finger at him angrily. "And I did it gladly, because we're best friends. I avoided putting you through extra suffering, _because-we're-best-friends!_ And so did Glorfindel! And all I am asking of you is that neither you nor Celebrian force me and Glorfindel to watch the two of you effectively commit suicide because you want to put yourselves through another painful goodbye! Well, here's a free psychologist's tip: neither of you are mentally ready for it, and you never will be! You won't get closure from visiting Arwen again. You will die. Do you hear me? You. Will. Die. Excruciatingly. "

Elrond and Celebrian both stared at me agape, too shocked to continue crying.

"I'll try to bring Elladan and Elrohir back," I said shortly before I stood up.

"Come, beloved," I said gently to Glorfindel, holding out a hand. "Let's take a walk."

Glorfindel nodded, rose to his feet, took my hand, and together, we left the room.

My eyes flew open and I looked around. Taureth was draped over me like an octopus that had washed up on a rock. I was in bed.

"Oh, thank fuck," I murmured to myself nervously. "What a shitty dream." And it was. I hated the person I was in that dream. I didn't much care for the version of Elrond and Celebrian in that particular late-night production either, if I was honest with myself. All in all, it left me with a bad taste in my mouth and made me even more reluctant to mention any news at all to them- not about Formenos, and definitely not about Middle-Earth.

The unease stayed with me over breakfast, and it seemed to show.

"Goodness, Rhodri, I've never seen you so uninterested in bread," Elrond remarked to me as I tried and failed for the fourth time in a row to put some carbohydrates in my mouth.

I sighed and tossed the slice of bread back onto the plate. "I slept badly last night," I groaned. "You know, proportional to the number of nights I _actually_ sleep, my stats for peaceful slumber have been pretty terrible of late."

"Oh dear," murmured Elrond worriedly. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Would you like us to take Tauros and Taureth for a few nights? Save you getting them off to sleep so you can relax a little?" Celebrian asked, Elrond nodding quickly in agreement.

I don't know why that helped. Unlike my brother Rhys, who could carry a grudge for in-dream transgressions for a week, I didn't give a monkey's what someone did or said. In-dream people are not real people, thank god, and the behaviour those people exhibit do not necessarily portray the real people accurately.

All the same, though, Elrond and Celebrian seemed to effortlessly allay any remaining discontent through their simple, almost reflexive kindness.

And I must say, they made a very tempting offer. Glorfindel was wearing my absolute favourite set of robes on him that day, a vivid aquamarine colour with tiny branch patterns all over that in the years before the children had arrived I had taken great delight in spending afternoons peeling him out of. Wordlessly, Glorfindel, who had been sitting beside me in those criminally irresistible robes, looked up at our friends, raising his eyebrows in polite interest before turning his gaze to me.

"It can't hurt, beloved," he murmured gently as he rested a hand on my back and rubbed it calmly. "After all, you've been awake all day and all night for the better part of almost three years now. A few days might let you give your mind a rest for a short while."

I crinkled my chin pensively. "Mmm," I mused. "That's a fair point, actually. Well, if you two don't mind, that'd be lovely," I said to our friends with a nod. "You'll be glad to know they're fond of sleeping these days. They learned to dream a few nights ago."

"Ah, magnificent," Elrond said. "The time is ripe for the high-fantasy bedtime stories, then."

"None with the Mirkwood spiders, if you please," Glorfindel requested quickly. "I don't want them finding out about them until they're old enough to fight off something twice that size."

I raised my eyebrows a little as Elrond and Celebrian nodded in agreement. So this was how the high-ranking fighter Elves set milestones for their offspring...


	103. Forgiveness algebra

**Charlize: **Just a nightmare. Too much awake time, not enough sleep. Even the Valar took a pause once in a while. :P

**Candace: **He didn't have super much to do with them. He didn't partake in the Kinslayings, and basically just marched out to get Gondolin started. I'm sure he found the whole thing completely abhorrent, as one should, but beyond that, nah.

**Wren: **Ah, dream people are odd. Elrond and Celebrían aren't really like that. They take very good care of Rhodri and Glorfindel, all told. I know it often seems like a one-way street with the whole R+G and E+C, but the reality is that it was a very give-and-take relationship. They mind each other's kids (or did in the past), listen to each other's concerns, and give each other plenty of love and affection in individual ways that balance it all out. An example of this is the way Rhodri and Glorfindel take a lot of efforts to assuage Elrond's fears about, well, everything (he's a very fretful sort of person). That's paid back in full by the way Elrond (and Celebrían, whenever she's in the picture) performs a lot of emotional labour in the background for them. They both are constantly keeping the minutiae of Rhodri and Glorfindel's lives in his head, reminding them to take their stuff with them when they leave his office, ensuring they remember to do things when they get absent-minded, having the cooks make cake readily available (there is literally no other reason there is so much cake except that he likes to see them happy), and, frustrating though it can be, supervising them when they do their tomfool extreme sports (hence the all screeches).

§

"My god, I just had a strange thought," I said to Glorfindel that evening as we lay reading in our noticeably child-free bed.

Glorfindel looked up from his book. "Oh?"

"We may have crossed paths before we met in Imladris. We both lived in Valinor for quite some time before Sauron became a problem."

His eyes widened a little. Closing his book and putting it on the bedside table, he tapped his lips with a finger as he mulled the thought over.

"Goodness," he murmured softly. "Wouldn't that be a strange thought."

"Well, it certainly gave _me_ pause," I replied before promptly putting my book down and shuffling further under the blankets. "Oh well, such is life. Good night, beloved!"

"But I- _Rhodri!"_ he groaned. "What did I tell you about delivering epiphanies right before we go to sleep? You _know_ I can't stand not having anyone to dissect these things with."

"That'll teach you to steal half my cake when you think I'm not looking," I said smoothly. "Ecthelion looked so relieved that you'd found a new victim to pilfer desserts from. The smug smile on his face almost killed me."

Glorfindel started spluttering loudly in protest. I started snoring loudly. Three melodramatic sighs later, though, his head was on my chest in the usual position. All was forgiven.

§

The next morning found me terrifically well-rested and in a state of no surprise whatsoever when Elrond asked to make an appointment at my pop-up clinic.

"Certainly," I said with a smile. "I'll just let Glorfindel know that the children are his for the morning. Come up to my quarters in, say, half an hour, yes?"

"Thank you, Rhodri, that is very obliging of you," Elrond said with a grateful nod.

"I might say the same for you and Celebrían with your childminding generosity. Speaking of which, how did the sprouts behave?"

"Like a dream," he replied happily. "The sole anomaly was that they said they wanted to trial sleeping like Borgil and Moth."

"Uh oh…" I croaked.

Elrond laughed and shook his head reassuringly. "Easily resolved," he said. "We informed them that Borgil sleeps curled up on the sofa, so we brought the lounge in from another room. They both climbed up, meowed at us several times, and fell asleep forthwith, not stirring again until morning."

"I wonder if they'll consider it comfortable enough to trial a second night," I wondered aloud. "Perhaps they're getting ready to sleep in their own rooms now. They would be about the right age for it… goodness me, how the time flies."

I shook my head, hoping to allay any nostalgic montages from dancing through my head and interrupting the conversation.

"Anyway, I'll go and inform Glorfindel of his new status as sole childminder. See you shortly."

With a wave, I left him in the corridor where I'd run into him and found Glorfindel indoors at the table, him munching on a cherry tomato as our offspring annexed his knees, devouring a book.

"Mummy, do you know about winter?" Tauros said, not looking up from the page.

"It means it gets cold and dark," Taureth piped up, clearly in a hurry to impart the knowledge.

"Oh, right," I said casually as I parked myself beside Glorfindel and looked at the book over Taureth, helping myself to a piece of toast. "So what happens with the animals who don't like cold weather?"

They both frowned; perhaps migratory practices were detailed in the next chapter. Still keen to provide an answer of some sort, Taureth spoke up.

"They light a fire," she said, nodding confidently.

"How do they manage that?"

"Oh, they have to ask their Mummy or Ada to do it," Tauros informed me. "They're not allowed to start fires until they're older."

"Is that so?" I said in surprise.

Tauros and Taureth nodded at me sagely and returned to their book. I didn't contradict them; if it kept the kids from playing with hot, flame-y things a little longer, why the hell not?

Taking advantage of the silence, I leaned over to Glorfindel and put an arm around his shoulder.

"Beloved, I have a client in some twenty minutes," I murmured to him. "The session should last an hour or two, tops."

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "Understood. Well, it's lovely outside, so you'll know where to find us."

I nodded, put a quick kiss on his head, and then made for our quarters.

Once inside, I quickly tried to make it look as though nobody lived in them, replacing books, setting up the desk with my papers and shutting the doors to the other rooms. I had a sneaky feeling if Elrond had caught sight of the mess Glorfindel and I had made in constructing a cushion castle in the spare room the night before, it might have made it harder for him to see me as a professional. Or even as an adult.

When the chaos subsided and the place was inhabitable again, I sat down calmly at my desk and pretended I'd been sitting there for the last twenty minutes, waiting for the knock that, sure enough, came a minute after.

I sauntered over to the entryway and opened the door to Elrond.

"Come in, Elrond," I invited him. "Our office today is the first door on your left."

Elrond nodded and followed my directions into the room.

"I take it you haven't got an answer to Caranthir's offer yet, otherwise we would have been sitting in that plush office of yours by the administration chambers," he commented off-handedly.

"I'll ask that we come back to that later, if you don't mind, Elrond," I replied as we both sat down. "We're going to be focusing on quite some demanding topics today, and I'd like to eliminate as many distractions as possible."

Another nod from Elrond, and the session began.

"Do you feel a little smug?" he enquired with a small smile.

I looked up from writing the date on his file page, quite puzzled. "Smug? What about?"

"When you told me to come here if I needed to talk, I said I probably wouldn't be back here for quite some time, and yet, here we are."

"Oh, _that,"_ I said as the penny dropped before shaking my head. "No, I don't consider that anything to feel smug about. If anything, I'm pleased that you felt you could take me up on the offer when you felt the need to talk. That's absolutely excellent." I gave him an encouraging smile, and his eyes crinkled up at the sides a little in response.

"Now," I continued as I poured him a glass of water, "Tell me about how things have been."

"Contemplative," he answered straight away, accepting his glass with a nod of thanks. "I've been thinking about what you said to me a couple of nights ago, but I seem to have reached a dead end in my thoughts now."

"Oh, yes? In what regard?"

"I don't quite know how I managed to not reach a solution on my own, actually," he murmured as an afterthought. "You were very specific in your instructions. Do not forgive Caranthir and the others until I know what they did wrong, what they ought to be sorry for, and what I am willing to pardon. And yet, no matter how hard I try, I don't seem to find answers, and all the questions I ask myself are circular."

"Forgiveness is a bit of a circular concept," I remarked. "So where did you get up to before things started to get recursive?"

Elrond drew in a deep breath and puffed it out again. "To be honest with you, Rhodri, I don't think I got very far at all. I'm still not quite sure I know what they did wrong. When I think I have it worked out, it seems like I am missing something."

"All right. Well, let's work through things in a systematic manner and see if we can't tease out a couple of answers, hmm? If I can make a suggestion, we could start around the time you were born."

Elrond raised an eyebrow. "That early?"

I shrugged. "You were only six when Maglor adopted you and Elros. Going back a few years earlier might give us some extra context."

"Right. So what now?"

"Perhaps you could narrate your life in those first years. It need not be in great detail, but it would be well to cover the things that you feel are significant and worth knowing."

"You already know all of what happened, though, Rhodri."

"I do, yes," I nodded. "But it's one thing to tell- and listen to- a story, and quite another to analyse it. We're going to slow it right down this time and take it bit by bit. How does that sound?"

Elrond nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Hmm. Well, I was born in the year 532 of the First Age in Sirion, one of twins, to Elwing and Eärendil-" he paused before asking, "How often should I stop and analyse my sentences?"

"Whenever it seems a good idea to you. If you don't mind, I'd like to stop you occasionally if I feel there is something urgent we should examine in a little closer detail."

"Of course."

"My thanks. So Elwing and Eärendil were your mother and father. How was your life with them as your parents?"

There was no sound except for the soft noise of Elrond pensively sucking on his teeth. His upper body shook a little as he jiggled his foot.

"I… don't really know," he replied slowly. "I saw nothing of Adar that I can recall. He left shortly after we were born to search for his mother and father, and then of course while he sought them, Fëanor's remaining sons heard of my mother possessing a Silmaril, so as far as my recollection goes, he was absent."

"What do you think of him leaving to search for his parents when he did?"

He cocked his head to the side a little. "How much detail do we need to go into over my parents when we are trying to assess the crimes of Fëanor's children?" he asked in confusion.

"Well, to be honest, Elrond, I have a suspicion that the missing something you described is the indication that there is more to all of this than whatever Maedhros and company did."

His gunmetal grey eyes widened in shock. "Good gr- Rhodri, you don't think I harbour resentment to my own mother and father, surely! My father was spectacularly brave, slaying Ancalagon and approaching the Valar as he did to lead a mighty campaign against Melkor. And as for my mother, she- well, she had the Silmaril to protect, didn't she? I mean gracious me, what could I resent them for?"

"Goodness, that's a loaded question," I said with a smile. "I have a multifaceted answer which I'll break into its constituent parts. First of all, I don't _think_ anything about how you feel about your parents. We haven't touched on the topic yet, but I'd like to because I think it is important to be sure you know how you feel about having them as parents."

"Second," I continued as I sat up in my chair a little, "It is possible to excel in one area but not in another. Denethor, for example, was a spectacular king, but by all accounts, his skills in fathercraft left much to be desired. Which brings me to my last point. I'm not necessarily insinuating that your own mother and father were terrible parents." I held up my Disclaimer Finger (right index, in case you were wondering). "However, if during your analysis of them, you feel dissatisfaction, happiness, sadness, confusion- or anything else- that is perfectly acceptable. You're allowed to have opinions on how you were raised, and those opinions are valid."

Elrond said nothing. He had been frowning deeply the entire time I had been speaking, but now his expression mellowed slightly.

"His leaving stings a little, I must admit," he said softly. "I have tried to justify it for a long time, saying that it must have been important for him to leave like that and seek his parents. You know how traumatic it is for newlyweds and new parents to be separated, especially among the Elves. And yet, nothing of that urgency comes to mind that excuses his departure. Nothing that I know of, at least."

I kept my face expressionless as an irritated huff came out of him, his long fingers drumming agitatedly. His lips pursed hard. He had a lot of things to say, and I had the feeling I would barely need to prompt him to get him going this time.

"And if I try to put myself in his position, it only makes it worse! I wouldn't have _dreamed_ of going anywhere after any of the children were born-"

He winced at the mention of the twins and Arwen, took a moment to collect himself, and carried on. "And Celebrían would never have forgiven me, much less gone after me had I done so!" Elrond's voice rose a little now. "But my mother allowed it. She-she let him leave, and then when Fëanor's children came for her, she threw herself into the _sea, _only to be turned into a swan that flew straight to _him!" _

He brought his fist down on the arm of the chair. "Didn't give the Silmaril to someone else, and even if she had to die the hero's death by suicide, she failed to even prepare for someone to watch out for us, escape somewhere with us! We were _six!" _

Elrond's eyes were flooded now, and I realised I hadn't brought any handkerchiefs with me. When he saw me checking my pockets, he shook his head gently and brushed under his eyes with the back if his hand.

"Thinking about what you've just told me, do you think there is anything your parents ought to be sorry for?" I asked after a few moments.

He nodded, nose wrinkled in a bitter snarl.

"Tell me?"

"Abandonment. Disregard. Foolhardy recklessness. Neglect!" His teeth clenched together, he swallowed a high, furious groan in his throat. "I've tried, Rhodri. I've tried so hard to see them as heroes. And maybe they are, but they were _terrible_ parents! When my father found out that Fëanor's kin pursued my mother and that she had thrown herself into the sea, he sailed straight for Valinor with her. He didn't search for us at all."

My mouth fell open in a gasp before I could stop it. I knew Eärendil had gone back to Valinor after that, but I hadn't ever heard that he didn't search for Elros and Elrond even a little. Leaving two six-year-old children to their own devices in the wake of a war was a level of neglect I could scarcely get my head around. I knew the story of the Silmarils, and I would sooner have handed all three of them to Fëanor myself than let my children languish in fear like that.

Elrond, distracted by the noise, looked at me and reached out over the table to put a hand on my shoulder. "Rhodri? Are you well?" he asked, peering at me in concern.

I smiled and nodded quickly, holding up my hand before he could touch me. "Yes, thank you, I'm quite fine. I was just taken by surprise, that's all."

Without missing a beat, I took another piece of paper and started writing on it. "I'm making you a list as we go," I said before he could enquire as to what I was doing. "We'll call it forgiveness algebra."

"Why such a mathematical name?" He was much calmer after my inadvertent distraction, and I hoped to myself that he wasn't toning it down for fear of turning me into a guppy again.

"Because we are using the power of logical deduction to make unknowns known to us," I said simply as I jotted his parents' names down. "Abandonment… disregard… recklessness… neglect. In establishing how you feel about your parents' actions, we make it clear that there are a number of contributing factors to the situation that led to you being fostered."

Elrond nodded. "If I think about what I could forgive Fëanor's sons and their allies, even with my parents in mind, there still seems to be something missing."

I nodded back. "Right, well, let's keep digging, then, shall we? Our story has reached the point where you and Elros were left alone. Would you like to continue recounting the story from there?"

He chewed on his lip in some small trepidation for a moment, but then launched into it before I could offer him a break.

"I don't quite remember how long Elros and I were alone," he began, eyes fixed on an artwork hanging on the wall off to my left. "It was such a long time ago now. Elros was much braver than I was. I was afraid and wanted to stay where we had last seen my mother, but Elros took us into a cave to get out of the rain, and found fresh water in there. When Maglor and Maedhros came into the cave and saw us, I started to cry, but Elros took out his knife and brandished it at them."

Elrond let out a mirthless laugh and shook his head. "I think they had planned to kill us, but couldn't bring themselves to do it. Maedhros was happy enough to leave us there, but I believe Maglor found us too pitiable for even that. To be honest with you, Rhodri, I'm quite sure he didn't want to foster us, but I think his conscience wouldn't allow him to do anything else."

"Oh?"

"Mmm. He was… cold initially, I suppose you could say," he mused, eyes still glued to the painting. "He certainly fed us and kept us well, taught us to play the harp and instructed us on lore, but it was some years before there seemed to be any love in it."

"What do you think of that?"

"About Maglor's slowness to warm up to us?" Elrond shrugged. "I think guilt would have made it exceptionally hard for an attachment to develop. I am not surprised in the least that it took as long as it did."

I looked down to make a couple of notes, and as I did, Elrond spoke again, his voice a little warmer now. "He tried his best with us, but I think it might all have been a bit too much for him. Perhaps…" his mouth opened slightly as his eyebrows rose. "Perhaps that is why he went with Maedhros so readily and left Elros and me again." He tore his eyes off the painting and looked at me in shock. "He was too guilty. Couldn't stand it any more."

"So looping back to one of our earlier sessions just for a moment, Elrond," I began as I put my pen down, "You'll recall that you said you felt terribly guilty for not attempting to stop Maglor from leaving. How do you feel about that when you consider it through the lens of his overwhelming guilt?"

Elrond's face became inscrutable for a moment. He sat stock-still in his seat, the only movement coming from his thumbs as he tapped them together thoughtfully.

"Less bad," he whispered after a while.

"In what way?"

He blinked hard. "I don't know."

I nodded understandingly. "Allow me to rephrase it a little. When you consider how desperate Maglor was feeling, how responsible do you feel a thirteen-year-old you was for any of Maglor's actions after that?"

Silence fell, eventually broken by shallow breaths coming from Elrond. I topped up his glass with water and waited for his composure to settle a little. His composure, however, did not settle, and with great difficulty, he spoke over the top of his grief.

"Our presence meant he couldn't get any respite, and in that way I suppose it is my fault that he was driven to follow Maedhros. Perhaps he would have been able to forget it if Elros and I weren't always there, but we were dependent children. He left us because he was desperate to escape his own guilt. It still hurts terribly, but not in the same way."

I smiled. "That is a very logical answer. You're pulling apart the situation and examining it in a much more objective way now. Absolutely magnificent progress, Elrond."

I added Maglor's name to the forgiveness algebra list and summarised what Elrond had said beside it.

"Now, we just covered a lot of very emotional topics, so unless you have any specific things you feel the need to address right now, I think you should take a breather, let yourself unwind a little, process those feelings," I suggested.

Elrond shook his head. "No, no burning questions. Ending it here is good timing, I think. May I come back again the day after tomorrow?"

"Absolutely. I won't set you any big homework for now. I think you have quite enough to process as it is, but I will give you this list so you can add to it as you feel necessary. Bring it with you when you come back." I handed him the forgiveness algebra, which he took and pocketed with a guarantee of its return in two days' time.

Standing up, I opened the door for Elrond and we left the chambers together, parting ways at the staircase. Elrond slipped into his own quarters, and I, keen to get out in the sun, took the stairs as quickly and quietly as I could, cursing again that I hadn't thought to ask Olórin how to get around via the Zap Network.

Glorfindel was right. It was a gorgeous day: clear skies and the sun was warm, but the breeze was just nippy enough to keep me feeling invigorated. I sighed contentedly as I followed the path to the park Taureth and Tauros had become incredibly fond of. As anticipated, Glorfindel was sitting calmly on a bench close by, drinking up the sunlight as he supervised our offspring, who were whooping and cheering like spider monkeys as they jumped and swung between the branches.

"Any excitement?" I enquired casually as I perched beside him, draping an arm over his shoulders.

"Nothing but," he replied with a grin. "If their screams were any louder, people from Tirion would be coming to see what the fuss was about."

"Goodness, I wonder where they might have learned to make noises like that," I wondered aloud, gently prodding Glorfindel in the side with my fingers.

Glorfindel giggled and squirmed a little.

"Who could have taught them that sort of mannerism, beloved? Hmm?" I crooned at him, grinning wickedly as my poking intensified and he started to wriggle in earnest. "Will we ever know?" I deployed my other hand to join the fun and a muffled shriek of laughter came out of his nose as he bit down on his lips.

I paused. "Goodness, did you hear that little scream just then?" I asked, moving my hand away to my ear as I looked around. "Sometimes I swear I can hear it on the wind. Must be Manwë's doing."

"It must be," panted Glorfindel as he uncrossed his legs so I could lie down and rest my head on his knee. He smiled down at me and stroked my cheek.

"Are you happy, beloved?" I asked after a moment.

"Oh, yes," he said with an emphatic nod. "I doubt I could be happier, in fact. Everything that I could have possibly wished for is within talking distance."

"Perhaps not everything," I mused, jiggling one foot contemplatively.

Glorfindel frowned. "What am I missing?"

I sighed. "It's not you. It's the serious trampoline deficit in this place."

He squinted hard. "Goodness," he murmured as a shadow passed over his face. "You're absolutely right. Do you think we should…?"

I shook my head a little. "Not yet. Perhaps when we come back here in an official capacity. Something tells me it's going to be a little awkward for us in Alqualondë and Tirion if we introduce the people of Formenos to anything pleasant just yet."

Glorfindel sighed. "That's a good point. It's so _strange,_ though…"

"Mmm. Imagine, a trampoline becoming a diplomatic sore point. Of all the things…"


	104. The monster fallacy

**Author's note:** I know I'm posting a lot less stuff lately, but holy dooley I've been hit with the sick stick lately. It's okay, none of it's been life threatening, but by golly they leave you a bit tired and in pain, so I'm taking my own advice and being kind to myself and drinking water while I wait for my bod to patch itself up and get ready for happier times. :D I hope you good folks are doing the same for yourselves. Also, past the 400 000 word mark now! And over 450 comments, too! As always, I'm perpetually taken aback by people's kindness and helpful feedback and thoughts, and I really appreciate your taking the time to stop by for a read, or leave a comment, or even send a PM. Thanks for sharing your time with me!

** Lefa: **I did mention something about that in chapter 58, but only for Rhodri- I said she was basically like Jessica de Gouw, but with a slightly longer nose. I was never much with imagining who else played them, but I have to say I thought a lot of the cast for LoTR was pretty spot on. But look, the thing is, you basically have room to run with whatever idea you want for how they look like, and I don't think if we stuck with canon that we'd ever find humans that could pass as Elves. They're considered to have a presence and beauty that's otherworldly. Here's a guess on my part: Elrond is always Hugo Weaving (my imagination doesn't permit anyone else as he did such a great job in the role), but younger I suppose. Erestor could be Rodrigo Santoro. Gil-Galad: Aaron Eckhart. Bregedur could be something like Zooey Deschanel, Celebrian perhaps as Alessandra Ambrosio, and for Glorfindel, maybe David Boals as someone suggested, or Matthew Noszka, who is a bit more smiley.

** Clementine: **Haha it's been a bit of a rough year health-wise tbh. Just one of those bad luck years, I guess, but I figure I'm just getting it all at once and that should leave me in the clear for a bunch of years. :D It has slowed me up a little, though, I won't lie, so I do apologise for the delays of late.

** HOFF: **:( BIG SAD. Thanks for pointing that out, though! Some questions I intentionally leave unanswered because they'll spoil the plot otherwise, but others I do just forget, so I'll answer those ones I missed (and intended to answer) in this one. *thumbs up*

** Magumi: **Rhodri was produced through her mother and father, Grace and Ernest Fanshawe's, physical efforts. Well, her physical body was, anyway. I'm not privy to at what point Iluvatar would place a fea in a foetus, but I would presume once the pregnancy is viable. She just had to wait in nothingness until such point as the soul was plonked into the baby. But she was definitely born through the "usual" way, and after the difficult pregnancy and birth her mother had with her, I'm pretty sure Grace Fanshawe would be ready to vehemently disabuse anyone who thought otherwise. :P

No answers to the other comments because I'm not about to start a life as a plot spoiler! :P

§

Since we had arrived in Formenos some four weeks prior, I had been in a near-constant state of disbelief. The place and the people just kept coming at me with surprises that consistently made me mentally, if not physically, do double-takes. As Glorfindel and I sat there, watching Taureth and Tauros scream around in the trees with the other set of twins (with whom they had become almost inseparable now), Maedhros appeared out of nowhere and sat down on the bench beside us.

"I hope you don't mind, you two, but Caranthir suggested that we have an impromptu meeting to discuss further trade plans," he said after we had exchanged greetings. That was fair. There had been talks among us about returning to Alqualonde within the next week or two, and we had to get down to business some time or another.

As I went to think about whom Glorfindel and I could palm the children off onto this time, Maedhros continued, "He's rounding up the other committee members as we speak and we'll have the meeting here so the children can keep playing."

My double-take made its appearance here. It was the first instance I had heard of working parent accommodations, and I was seriously impressed. Got kids and can't get a babysitter lickety-split? Not a worry, we'll have the meeting at the park.

"Wow," I murmured under my breath.

"If this is a bad time for you, we can postpone the meeting for a time that is more suitable," Maedhros added quickly.

"Oh, no, no, this is perfectly fine," I said, shaking my head. "My astonishment was at what a good idea it is to take the meeting in the park."

"It's lovely to have it outside in the fresh air, too," Glorfindel added with a happy sigh. "It's too nice of a day to spend indoors, really."

Maedhros and I nodded in agreement. The sun's rays made a deliciously warm complement to the slightly chilled ambient temperature, and with endless, deep blue sky stretching in just about every direction, it seemed almost a crime to go inside.

The three of us spent the next few minutes going between chatting and loudly reassuring our children that we were indeed watching them when they decided we were paying too much attention to each other. After that, members of the committee started to show up, and we moved off the bench to sit in a semi-circle so as to accommodate everyone.

Amrod and Amras were the first to appear, and with them were Turgon, Gil-Galad, Erestor, Ecthelion, and Egalmoth. Erestor looked strangely smug, as did Gil-Galad, and ever-wealthy Egalmoth walked with a slight limp and appeared distinctly put out as he irritably adjusted the opulent rings on his fingers.

"Goodness, Egalmoth, you've injured yourself!" Glorfindel exclaimed as they all sat down in the semicircle with us. "What happened?"

"He lost a bet," Gil-Galad said to us, satisfaction oozing from his voice as he clapped his spouse on the shoulder.

"Oh?" Glorfindel enquired keenly. He leaned forward with interest, not wanting to miss a word of this juicy story.

"Erestor and I have been training together recently, and he really is quite an exceptional sword and hand-to-hand fighter. Such excellent progress in only a few short years," Gil-Galad looked at Erestor lovingly, who gave him a sweet, blushing smile in return. "Well, I was so pleased with his progress that I may have gone on a little overlong about it, so Egalmoth here challenged him to a best-of-three competition: archery, sword fighting, and hand-to-hand combat. Naturally, Egalmoth won the archery, but in sword fighting, he lost to Erestor by a hair, and in hand-to-hand combat, well…" Gil-Galad's eyes flicked over to a rueful Egalmoth, who was still preening himself in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

"And here I was thinking you'd injured yourself by falling off your money bag, Egalmoth," I remarked off-handedly.

Egalmoth rolled his eyes and flicked his flawless dark hair over his shoulders as Glorfindel, Turgon and Ecthelion screamed with laughter.

"You know, now that you mention it, you do look a little different, Erestor," Glorfindel said to him when composure was regained, and he looked him over thoughtfully. "More muscular, I think."

"I think you're right, actually," I said in agreement as I looked at Erestor now, too. His shoulders were quite a bit broader than they were before, and his robes looked almost a little tight on him. "Good thing I made your overalls a loose fit for you. If you need a new set, though, just take your measurements again and give them to me later."

Erestor nodded happily, reddening as Gil-Galad shot him a tiny but unmistakably wicked smile.

Fortunately, I distracted everybody by waving at a now-approaching Caranthir who had the remaining committee members in tow. When they sat down with us, proceedings began.

The meeting in and of itself was nothing particularly exciting. It was the usual humdrum rigmarole of boring people gathering to finalise trade proposals and wondering aloud how to suggest them in the most respectful, conducive way possible. I was extremely grateful for the fact that the children were playing close by, so I could blame my inattentiveness to the meeting on being the responsible group member who kept an eye on the sprouts. Everybody won. Especially me, though, because observing Tauros and Taureth having a ball with Maelind and Maeloth was far more entertaining, especially as someone who had worked with children in a clinic before. Having kids was a real treat in that regard; not only were they fascinating, but if they were happy and well, Glorfindel and I were almost always guaranteed to be in a great mood, too. Such easy joy.

When the meeting came to a close, everyone got to their feet, and most of us started to go in their own directions. The only ones left were Glorfindel, Maedhros, Caranthir, and me.

"Ah, Rhodri," Caranthir began as the four of us went over to the bench we had occupied before. "Do you think you would have some free time this afternoon, or perhaps after dinner?"

"Certainly," I replied with a smile. "Whenever suits you."

"Perhaps after dinner, then. Meet at your office?"

I nodded. "Consider it done."

Caranthir nodded his thanks and left the three of us sitting on the bench together.

"I can scarcely believe what a different person Caranthir has become, you know," Maedhros murmured to Glorfindel and me as he watched his brother stroll away.

Glorfindel's eyes widened in agreement. I wasn't quite sure what to say, since it would be remarkably easy to blur and overstep professional and personal boundaries by making any comments or observations of my own. In fact, even being part of this conversation made things rather awkward, and I hoped it would end there for that reason, but it didn't.

"He was the one my mother most feared for, that he would make the same rash, hasty choices out of anger as my father did. In a way, I suppose she was right in that he met his death, but now, out of all the brothers, I think he has made the biggest success of himself. Celegorm and Curufin, however…" Maedhros shuddered.

The awkward discourse was interrupted by the kids screaming out for me to come over. Delighted by my timely distraction, I stood up and excused myself.

"Duty calls," I announced in a slightly-too-jolly tone as I bounced over to the small folk.

"What's happening, kiddywinks?" I asked them as I strode over to the tree they were hanging off.

"Watch this," Taureth said as she wrapped her arms around Maelind and with a mighty grunt, threw her two metres into the air. Maelind laughed like a hyena as she went into the air, grabbed the branch she was moments away from whacking into, and hung there like a sloth until I put my arms out for her to fall into, setting her on the ground.

I said nothing for a moment as I stood there blinking in flabbergasted shock, a reaction which all four children found uproariously funny.

As they cackled like a quintet of demonic barnyard hens, Tauros stepped forward and announced he was able to do the same thing. He reached for his willing assistant Maeloth until I hastily put a stop to that.

"Ah-ah, no throwing children," I said quickly, almost not believing that I had had to make that rule. "Just… just wait a minute. Glorfindel!" I called to him. He looked up from his conversation with Maedhros.

"Come over here a moment, would you please, beloved- you, too, Maedhros, if you don't mind." I beckoned them over, and with a nod, they got to their feet and sauntered over happily.

"Everybody enjoying themselves here?" Glorfindel asked brightly as he stopped beside me.

The four kids nodded ecstatically.

"Taureth… ah… just took Maelind and threw her up onto that branch there," I murmured to my spouse and Maedhros softly, pointing at a branch only just out of Glorfindel's reach. "Tauros claims to be able to do the same."

Glorfindel's eyes bugged out ever so slightly at this information, and Maedhros was left nothing less than thunderstruck.

"I see," Glorfindel said weakly. "Well, it shouldn't have come as too much of a surprise, really…"

"And yet," I said under my breath. This was an impressive development; one that required immediate action, because the risk of someone getting hurt by the above-average strength of an overzealous toddler was exponential.

Glorfindel grunted and nodded, appearing to have had much the same thought.

I turned to the kids again, who were watching us in fascination now, and slipped back into calm parent mode. "Right, well you two, if you're capable of throwing things around, you need to know that you shouldn't be doing that with people just yet."

"You throw Ada and us around all the time!" Taureth said, outraged. "We're strong enough!"

"That is very true, but it's not about strength. You're obviously terrifically strong, but that can be very dangerous." I looked at Maedhros. "Do you mind if I borrow your children for a short, safe demonstration of something please?"

Maedhros nodded slowly, still shocked.

I went over to a nearby tree and picked four apples off a branch, taking them back over to where the children stood and handing them one each.

"Throw that apple as hard as you can against the tree trunk and then take a look at it," I instructed them.

Maelind and Maeloth pelted theirs at the tree first, and they bounced right off. Picking them up, they saw quite obvious, deep bruises, the skin almost not intact on them. They poked them in fascination, impressed with their work.

When Tauros and Taureth threw theirs, the apples split into large bits on impact, spraying juice everywhere. Maedhros' twins ooh-ed loudly as ours picked their apple carcasses up and smiled broadly at me.

"Right, and now imagine that was a person," I said, and the smiles disappeared rapidly, replaced with looks of abject horror. "Now you know the damage you could do, being that much stronger. Before you use any of that power, you need to be able to control it, hmm?"

They nodded, quite subdued now.

"Mummy and I will show you how to do that, don't worry," Glorfindel said gently, patting their backs reassuringly. "In the meantime, though, don't throw people, don't throw objects near people, and if you break something, tell Mummy or me and we'll fix it together. How does that sound?"

This seemed agreeable to the two of them, and they heaved a sigh of relief. It was a bittersweet moment, all told. For all their chaotic zippiness, they weren't aggressive by any means, and it was both touching and reassuring to see that they were appalled at the thought of harming another person.

At the same time, though, I couldn't help but feel sad that they had to have that sort of constant self-consciousness about them. It was a significant burden to bear for someone of that age, but it was best that it happened now so that practicing its control became second nature to them early on, especially since they would become proportionally stronger the older they got.

Not only that, but I wondered if perhaps this would start the process where they would become more aware of how different they were from other Elven children in other ways. I hoped it wouldn't make them feel alienated or, god forbid, be the impetus for others to alienate them.

Mercifully, my genetic input there seemed to have been watered down in much the same way as the other Maia mother's had been with her progeny. Melian's singing, which made spells strong enough to keep Ungoliant away from Thingol's and her realm, had presented in her daughter Luthien as a voice that, though ethereally beautiful, was not magical. These kids weren't going to be shifting three hundred-ton anythings, but they'd effortlessly win out against any other Elf in feats of strength. That was better than a poke in the eye, surely.

Given much to think about, we parted ways with Maedhros and his offspring, taking Taureth and Tauros back to our quarters to sit and play a little more quietly.

By the time dinner rolled around, they were happily sitting on our laps as we ate, eagerly re-reading the story of the little leaf-dwelling spider with their usual good humour. At that point, we had a game plan: daily training with the kids after breakfast, and then they could play to their heart's content. It was far earlier than I had expected for them to enter into any sort of program like that, but I couldn't see a way around it that didn't compromise safety.

After that, I made my way to my office to meet Caranthir, water jug in hand, feeling as content as I could for the interim, and saw him waiting outside. He caught sight of me and gave me a friendly wave which I returned as I strolled over to him.

"Welcome to work," he said with a smile, producing the key to the office door and holding it up for me to take.

I smiled back, receiving the key and unlocking the door as I invited him in.

"I'm pleased you arranged for this," I said as we sat down and I poured him a glass of water. "I was hoping to follow up with you, but I thought I'd leave it a short while and watch you for myself as well."

"Yes, I thought the timing was right for a little catch-up," he agreed with a nod.

I took a sheet of paper out and scribbled the date on it before looking up again. "So, fill me in on the last few years 'til now."

Caranthir sighed. "My goodness, what a few years it's been. Not long after I left you all in Alqualonde, I made for Formenos via Tirion region," he began.

"Tirion? What was happening in Tirion?" I asked, puzzled.

"Maedhros, Amrod, and Amras live on the outskirts of Tirion. Or, rather, they did before I collected them and told them about my idea to revitalise Formenos. There were quite a few who fought under us living in and around Tirion, as a matter of fact. They were curious as to where we were headed, and while I told them, they were under instructions not to share the details with non-exiles, whom as you will recall were directed to-" he gestured at me

"Ask Rhodri," I filled in with a laugh and a nod.

He smiled and nodded. "Indeed. The reconstruction efforts went surprisingly quickly. People were dedicated, and none had any children to monitor, so we had as many hands as needed to make a rapid turnaround in a settlement of this size. Perhaps a year ago, we were finished, and at that point I felt I had done enough introspection to warrant at least reaching out to Galadreth. So I wrote to her inviting her out to see Formenos if she wished, and that I had made great efforts to change my behaviour, but that she need not see me while in Formenos if she did not wish it."

"Excellent approach. No expectations, open invitation. Nice job."

Caranthir accepted the comment with a grateful nod and continued.

"I think she might have been hesitant to come out at first, but the curiosity seemed a little too much for her, and she ended up making the journey some weeks later. I arranged for the guards to ask her upon arrival if she wished to see me, and, well, she did." He shrugged, a small smile on his face. "It was a lot like when we had first met, as I had become quite awkward and shy again, but fortunately, the paperwork you told me to keep was able to do much of the talking."

Caranthir tapped his index finger against the arm of his chair, and the ring made a small clattering sound each time it hit.

"I missed hearing that sound," he murmured, chuckling softly to himself.

I smiled. "So how have things been since then?"

"Pleasantly tiring," Caranthir replied with a contented sigh. "My schedule is often full these days, and it was initially quite demanding, as I have spent so long without any workload beyond subsistence to speak of. Another benefit of your therapy, I think. The homework prepared me for a re-entry into paperwork."

"I'll be sure to list that among expected outcomes for future clients," I returned with a wry smile. "How are you getting along with everyone else in Formenos?"

Caranthir's eyebrows raised slightly, and as his eyes went up, his face took on a pensive look. "Well, that came as something of a surprise, to be frank."

"Oh?"

"I had anticipated that there would be some difficulties in settling in for many of the exiles here, especially when the invitation was extended by me and my brothers. We did, after all, lead them into a monstrous bloodbath."

"What did you get instead?"

"I think they were all ready for change," he mused. "I made my vision very clear when I was telling my brothers and them of my plans for Formenos. Healing, growth, and reform. They wanted it, too, I think. And certainly, their lives were not as pleasant then as they once had been, before all this misery with the Silmarils. We were very well-respected members of society, after all, and we were rightly kept at arm's length after the Kinslayings. They were frustrated, all their talent going to waste where they were, and I think they wanted a society where they could grow. I made the conditions clear- the society was to be an entirely peaceful, cooperative one, and they were more than ready to accept that. So by default, we got along well."

"Did that extend to a personal level?" I asked, intending to sniff out any unrealistic expectations- had Caranthir wanted to be everybody's best buddy now? That sort of pressure was enough to make anyone crack. There would have been at least five hundred people living here.

To my delight, he shook his head. "Not with everyone, no. Close enough that we can all ask favours of each other, which is necessary for a society to function, but nothing like that with everyone, no. Respect is the key, I think, and it seems to be what is helping the most."

I smiled and nodded. "That's a very good approach. Glad to hear it."

"There is one thing, though, Rhodri," he began nervously.

"Mmm?"

"I still feel…" he wrinkled his brow as he searched for the word. "Incomplete, I suppose you might say."

"Tell me about it?"

"I don't feel like I'm entirely reformed. It's almost as though I'm… afraid of myself."

"What do you think is keeping you from feeling like you have made a complete change in your ways?"

Caranthir sighed, though this time, it was a much less contented one than before. "There are still remnants of who I was before. Bad remnants. I still feel that anger, albeit much less now, but it seems to be ever-present."

"How often do you feel close to losing your temper when that anger comes to the fore again?"

"Truthfully, I don't think I have been close in a long, long time. But all the same, when I feel it coming on, my heart beats faster, and I feel myself break out in a sweat. Sometimes I can even feel my hands start to tremble a little. I feel ready to lash out, but it is different now somehow."

Arousal is an interesting thing. It's often considered to be a term with inherently sexual undertones, but the truth is that it is very multifaceted. At its simplest definition, arousal is excitement or stimulation. That covers a lot of emotions and reactions: sexual, certainly, but also things like anger, alarm, excitement, among others. The body's reactions to the various types of arousal often overlap, which can make it hard to decide what the underlying emotion might be, and indeed, that confusion can give rise to misguided reactions, such as aggression when one is afraid, or the oft-lauded concept of 'angry sex'. I had a feeling that Caranthir's newfound distress was him getting his wires crossed.

"I see," I said. "Tell me, Caranthir, how reformed do you feel people think you are now?" During the weeks I had been in Formenos, I had seen for myself how much respect people here had for him, and I was confident they had complete faith in his recovery. But what did Caranthir think?

He didn't answer right away, chewing on his lip a little as he pondered the question.

"They seem to be quite pleased with me," he said after a while. "Perhaps they watch out for any signs of relapsed behaviour, but I would say for the most part they think I am quite steady. But I feel rather unsteady all the same, even if my behaviour says otherwise."

"And yet you said you don't feel like you really will lose your temper."

"That is the part I don't quite understand," he rubbed his brow, looking a little weary now. "Perhaps my confidence is too low."

"Why do you think it might be low?"

"Because I know what I have done before. This reformed behaviour seems almost inauthentic, even though I love living this way and wouldn't dream of going back to the way I was. I feel like a monster." His eyes widened as the words escaped him, and he slowly covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh, Rhodri, I'm still a monster."

"What is a monster, Caranthir?" I asked calmly.

Caranthir looked up at me sharply. "Wh-what?" he asked, completely bewildered now.

I shrugged. "I am asking you what you consider to be a monster."

"Something not quite a person, almost," he muttered grimly as he glanced down sadly at his wedding ring. "It does such terrible things that it couldn't possibly be."

I hesitated and wondered if I should say what I wanted to. Without waiting for a verdict from my neurological judging panel, I launched into it.

"As a therapist, I'm not supposed to offer my opinion on something, but if I may, I would like to temporarily deviate from that tenet and give you something to think about, because of the unique situation you currently find yourself in."

He looked surprised but politely gestured that I should proceed. I nodded in thanks and dove in.

"I think the term 'monster,' and the way that it others people who are labelled as such, is a very mistaken approach. By all accounts, Caranthir, you are an Elf. There is nothing alien about you physically, mentally, or spiritually."

"But-but I did all those horrible things-" he began to protest.

"Indeed you did," I acknowledged with a nod. "I'm not pretending you didn't. You and I both know what you've done. But it wasn't a monster who did it. It was an Elf. And not just one Elf: hundreds of them committed those crimes. But you're still Elves. If you go around calling yourself a monster, you immediately say that an Elf is not capable of doing bad things. But they obviously are. Anyone could have done what you did, and by the same token, you could have taken a path that eschewed your father's influence."

"What difference does it make, anyway?" he groaned. "It's already done."

"It makes the biggest difference!" I insisted. "Your past actions have demonstrated that a normal person can do remarkably good things as easily as they can do bad things. Don't negate any of it by calling yourself a monster, Caranthir. Don't let others get the idea that they are incapable of doing bad things because they are something different from you. They're not, and it's far, far too dangerous for someone of your status to ever allow that belief to flourish, here or anywhere else. Whether you want it to be this way or not, your position as the leader of a city of reformed people obliges you to be an example. Not just for the people of Formenos, but for all Elves."

I leaned over my desk, watching him squarely in his wide, overwhelmed eyes as I brought my pointed finger down on the desk for emphasis.

"This is your real-world penance, Caranthir. None of this abstract soul-cleansing guff in Mandos." I waved a hand dismissively. "This is how you make it up to the Teleri and the other slain Elves. Reparations, but also prevention so that we never see such a repeat of this again. Supply education, and the truth. Respect the victims' memories and acknowledge their suffering by actively doing both those things. It's your job for the rest of your life, and as daunting as it may seem, I have absolutely every confidence that you will do it with dignity, and you will succeed."

Caranthir closed his eyes and kept them shut for some time. It took a while, but eventually he opened them and heaved a sigh.

"I will do my best," he said, his voice quiet but determined.

I smiled. "I know you will. And remember, you can always, always come to me to talk. You're not going to be alone in this journey. You have an entire city supporting you, and they in turn will look to you for support as they tread a similar path."

He nodded. "It's just… so overwhelming."

"Ah, yes, which brings me back to that other topic. You said your heart is speeding up when you feel the anger?"

"Mm?" he said mildly.

"Do you think you might be feeling another emotion when anger comes up now?"

Caranthir chewed over my question briefly before his eyes widened in what appeared to be a lightbulb moment. "Could it be fear?"

"It could very well be," I said with a nod. "What makes you think it might be?"

"It seems reasonable. I'm terrified of lapsing back into that angry person I used to be. Even though I don't feel close to lapsing, which is the odd part…" he frowned gently and propped his head up on his hands, tapping his cheek with a graceful finger.

"What do you think it could be instead?"

"Perhaps knowing that I have the capability to be overly aggressive. I know that I personally have been able to do it before, so perhaps the fear is knowing precisely how I can descend from calmness to violence so easily."

"I think you might be right. In which case, what I think might be best as an initial intervention would be to try a grounding exercise. Something to bring you out of your hypothetical worries and back into the here and now."

Caranthir looked intrigued. Encouraged, I continued.

"We'll start with a simple counting exercise that has worked wonders for many of my clients: when you start feeling overwhelmed, I want you to pay close attention to your body and environment at that moment and count five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste."

I wrote the instructions down on a list and passed the paper to him.

"When you have gone through the list, notice those feelings of fear you have. Acknowledge them, but if you feel you have your anger under control, say that. Assure yourself that you are all right at that moment, and if you don't have it under control, step away, take a breather, come find me or someone you trust and talk it through with them."

Caranthir took the paper and perused it shortly, still looking very uneasy.

"It's so hard to accept that I behaved like that."

I nodded. "We do a lot of things in life that we can't believe happened in retrospect. That's not aided by the fact that such behaviour is now abhorrent to you. There isn't much to do beyond acknowledging the truth and reminding yourself that you tread a very different path now, I'm afraid. Take the time to feel the unpleasant feelings as you live that truth, but if you can, divert your energy into making amends, in the same way that you are. You really are handling the situation marvellously."

"You really think so?"

"Yes. Unequivocally yes. But I understand that you are still suffering, and it's important to remember that this isn't something that's going to have an endpoint. Recovery is a lifelong journey, so take it one day at a time, pace yourself, and reach out for help when you need it. And you know, you should take a moment now and then to see how far you have come. Let yourself feel some happiness from that, and let it give you the encouragement to continue recovering on the days when everything feels particularly bleak."

"You're not going to tell me it gets worse, are you?" Caranthir whispered, looking panicked as his eyes relatively flicked around.

"Caranthir, I need you to look at me," I requested. He reluctantly dragged his eyes onto me and I smiled softly.

"There will be days where things are difficult," I said in a quiet but clear voice. "There are always those kinds of days in life, whether we do the right thing or not. But statistically speaking, there will likely be far more neutral days than anything else, and there will also be a fair share of happy days, too. In fact, you will likely have happy days more frequently now than you ever had before. Like I said, one day at a time."

He let out a long sigh. "I suppose that is about as good as we can hope for, isn't it?"

"That's all anybody can hope for," I returned with a chuckle.

"There's a lot to think about there."

"It is indeed. Not to worry, though; you Elves are very long-lived. You've got the time."

Caranthir rolled his eyes playfully at me. "I suppose you're right. Do you know, I feel better after discussing this with you. Well enough to call it a night for now, I think."

"I'm pleased it's been of some help. Shall we schedule a follow-up appointment?"

"Give me a week to see how I fare, and then if I need to talk some more, I will find you," he said after considering my suggestion.

I nodded. "Very good. Stick with the list for now, and don't be afraid to come and find me if you find you can't settle, even if it hasn't been a week, all right?"

"I shall," he guaranteed. With a smile and a nod, he stood up and left the room.

After filing my first piece of paperwork away in the drawer, I packed up and left the office, beetling back to my quarters and wishing yet again that I could zap myself here, there, and everywhere.

It was rather confronting to counsel someone who had committed war crimes, I had to admit. Though I had had experience with clients who had done some problematic things in their lifetime, the sessions weighed on me heavily from time to time, especially now that I had no supervisor to de-brief with afterwards. They would sometimes leave me with a sort of secondhand guilt that always left me hankering for the wholesome respite that friends and family offered.

I walked up to the guest housing and, in an almost movie scene-perfect moment, heard a loud burst of laughter come from inside that made my heart leap a little. Stepping inside, I followed the noise and ended up in one of the common rooms on the ground floor, where Glorfindel, Tauros, and Taureth sat in animated chatter with Elrond and Celebrian. Seconds later, the kids were wrapped around my legs, and I waddled thus over to the adults and took a seat- my seat- with them, feeling hugely pleased with myself.


	105. Opportunity knocked

**Author's note: ** CW: some adult themed stuff, not much.

Aw! Thanks you bunch for all your get well wishes and nice remarks! That's so kind of you. Things are definitely improving, and I'm looking forward to starting a vastly-improved second half of the year. I hope you good bunch are too, but even if you're not, it's okay. Take it one day at a time until the better stuff comes along and drink that water in the interim!

Also, good god this is a long chapter.

**Larp**: Ooh, this is a really hard question. In a way, yes, Caranthir is the (main) leader at Formenos, but I think he approaches it in much more of a pastoral sense than an authority figure way. Essentially, the revitalised Formenos is his brainchild, and though it has been shaped with input from everyone else who wanted a say, he has some very specific core tenets for the fabric of the society he wanted to make. Stuff like ensuring nonviolence and facilitating reform, healing, personal growth, and maintaining those things- guiding his people into a better, more wholesome lifestyle. I think if there is any authority there, it's making sure that those things are adhered to.

Caranthir keeps the hierarchy very flat, though, all things considered. Anyone can come into those meetings and chuck in their two cents, just like anyone can volunteer to take responsibility for how certain things are done. It's all kept as fair and transparent as possible, and because the residents there are committed to growth, respect and understanding, disputes are resolved quickly and civilly, with as much compromise as possible to satisfy all parties. Much easier to do when the population is only 500-ish people. If the population grows substantially over time, some may well splinter off into their own groups and go establish a society more to their tastes if they find Formenos doesn't cut it for them.

**Kesia**: Honestly that wasn't intentional haha. It's an expression my mother, an Australian, uses a lot. The full sentence she uses is, "Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick." But hey look, I'm all for starting up inside jokes with you good folk, so I'll change my answer to a maybe :D

**Rita**: that made me lol, I won't lie

**Maitland**: Yeah that's pretty much it. Rhodri- well, Vinyaten, I suppose, never had a physical body before she was sent away. Initially it was because she had no need for it- she never walked among the Elves, because she was busy as a bee training with Tulkas and hanging around with the other Valar. Later on, she intentionally chose not to take a body, the reason for which will be addressed in this chapter. But anyway, as a result, she had very few, if any preconceived ideas of what her body would be like, so when she ended up in Middle-Earth, she kept what she had as a human, except that she was taller, perhaps a little more muscular, lost a couple of acne scars, and her teeth were a little straighter. Everything else about her was essentially unchanged.

**Regal**: Yes! Ada is Dad, Adar is Father. Naneth is Mother, and Nana is Mum. I think Rhodri chose to actually be called Mum/Mummy because it was the term she used for her own mother and even after all those years speaking Sindarin, Nana still reminded her of what she called her own grandmother. :P

**Kidada**: Yeah, her nose a little longer in length, and probably also a bit straighter. I can't picture Rhodri with a button nose, personally. Not that there's any right/wrong way to see Rhodri. I only really made a handful of things concrete: cool, dark brown hair, light grey eyes, tallish. I always imagined her to be very beautiful, and as that idea varies from person to person, she could be lots of ways and turn out gobsmacking.

**Ames**: WHOA that is a LIST! You're someone with ideas haha! I'd be interested to know which Elf went to which person. Oh, and just because I forgot a crucial cast member here: I would put Andreas Eriksen as Olórin (the new one. The old man is Ian McKellen, always.).

§

I'd like to say I slept peacefully that evening, being our second and last childfree evening. And I suppose in a way, I did- until I woke up. I didn't know how much later it was, but I guessed it wouldn't have been more than an hour or two into sleep time. Much, much earlier, in other words, than what I had intended. I crash-landed into consciousness halfway through sitting up and triumphantly shouting, "HA!"

Glorfindel awoke with a start (of course he did; he was thrown off my chest as I flew bolt-upright).

"Sorry, darling," I said quickly, lying back down and pulling him onto me again.

"Rhodri, are you all right?" he asked in a groggy but worried voice. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"Surprisingly, no," I answered. "I had an idea."

He looked up at me in interest.

"Here I was thinking all this time I would have to wait to speak to Olórin about zapping myself from place to place like he does, but I can just ask Tulkas right now! God, why didn't I think of that sooner?"

"Doesn't he live quite a way from here?" he asked, his face quizzical now. "I thought his halls were in Valimar."

I shrugged. "He always knows where I am, and he told me to call for him if I needed anything. I think I'll go and ask him now. Might even get a bit of play fighting in, if I'm lucky."

For the second time in five minutes, Glorfindel was forced to sit up, but this time I gave him a moment to rise on his own.

"Rhodri, do you think I could come with you?" he requested hopefully. "I haven't seen you spar with him before."

"Certainly," I smiled. "Let's get cracking, then."

After we pulled on some sporting gear, we departed Formenos via the main gates. Once behind the hills, we went some kilometres away, making sure we were completely out of sight.

"Tulkas!" I shouted at the sky. "Tulkas, can I ask you something?"

Moments later, a bright light filled the darkness, and Tulkas stepped out of nowhere, smiling broadly at us.

"Ah, I'm so pleased you called for me, little Vinyaten!" he said, his voice loud and robust. He turned to Glorfindel, clapping his hands in delight. "Ah, and the valiant Lord Glorfindel. Have you come to play, too?"

Glorfindel beamed at the praise and nodded. "If I may, I would be delighted."

"Excellent, excellent."

"Ah, before we get started, Tulkas, a question." I raised my hand a little, and Tulkas gestured that I should ask it.

"Olórin can teleport. So can you, come to think of it," I rubbed my chin at my sudden afterthought before returning to the topic at hand. "Can I do that, too?"

Tulkas laughed a booming, rich laugh. "Well yes, of course. All the Valar and Maiar can do that."

"Did, ah, did you ever show me?"

Tulkas' laughter died and he watched me blankly. "Yes, I did," he replied, now much quieter. "It was one of the first things I taught you. You don't remember?"

I shook my head. "I don't remember all that much of my life before I was sent away. I'm aware of some things without knowing how, but aside from some memories that dredge up while I'm asleep, it's all quite… blank."

Tulkas' brow furrowed deeply at this. "Most strange," he murmured discontentedly. "You should have been able to recall everything by now. Though it does explain a lot of strange things about you..."

This was unsettling. I had never really dwelled much on the fact that I couldn't remember half my life, which given my profession now struck me as an incredibly laughable thing. Was I the first Maia with pathological amnesia?

"What do you mean, 'strange things?'"

"Well, for a start, whenever you spar with me here, you keep this form, never shedding your body" he gestured at me. "It slows you down quite substantially. And now that you say you can't teleport…"

I shook my head. This was just ridiculous, and I quite frankly was not in the mood to embark on a quest to remember my time in outer space and walking around Valinor. Not when I had some other ridiculous task that was dragging me back to Middle-Earth. It would have to get in line and wait its turn.

"Look, Tulkas, do I need to get those memories back so I can get about faster?"

He shook his head, looking distracted as he did so. "No, no. It's very simple. Think of where you want to go, and as soon as you go to move, you'll arrive there."

I raised my eyebrows. How was it that so much of what the Maiar could do seemed so intuitive but I had no idea about it?

Glancing at a patch of grass beside Tulkas, I decided that was where I wanted to be standing, and my muscles had barely started to twitch before I materialised beside him. I nodded happily, taking my shock in my stride.

"Lovely. Well, that's travel plans sorted. Great. Thank you very much, Tulkas." I smiled gratefully at him, but he still seemed rather hung up about our last topic of conversation.

"Irmo is withholding your memories," he said after a moment, and irritation came over his face. "He was the custodian of those while you were gone. And of course, some delay is to be expected with memories being returned, but not for things this basic three years into your life in Valinor!"

"Irmo?" I echoed. The one dispatching me to Middle-Earth yet again was the one with my mental archives? As if I weren't absent-minded enough as it was, withholding parts of my long-term memory seemed to be almost cruel- unless it was in connection with said trip to Middle-Earth.

For the first time in a long time, I felt afraid. Threatened. Terror engulfed me at the thought of Tulkas and Irmo fighting again over exactly the same thing. Me on a mission, both wanting me to be a certain way, bringing about a second instance where I was taken away and hidden somewhere else so my superiors could settle their grievances without me there as a distraction.

I turned to Glorfindel, who was watching this all completely agog. "I need you to do that lovely thing where you pretend not to hear for a second, beloved," I requested gravely.

Glorfindel snapped-to, nodded, and stuffed his fingers in his ears, humming the birthday song. Suppressing the hollow urge to laugh, I looked back at Tulkas.

_"Look, I don't know what's going on, but please, Tulkas, don't fight with Irmo about it,"_ I urged him._ "Not yet."_

_"Why not?"_ he demanded. _"Your memories are your right in Valinor."_

I shook my head hard. _"I don't want to be sent away again. It ripped my heart in two, being taken away from you. And now I have Glorfindel, and children who depend on me! It was traumatic enough the first time, but a second time would be beyond catastrophic. It can't happen. Please, please don't pursue this."_

Tulkas watched me sadly. _"I don't think it would come to that, little one. Not this time."_

I wanted to say something about the new mission I had been given, but stopped myself. Irmo had forbidden me from telling anyone, and the setting was ripe for a repeat incident of what happened last time in Manwë and Varda's halls, even if I didn't need intensive instruction any more.

I sighed. He needed to know about the mission, otherwise this would be a disaster. I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to do the talking, though, so I relented.

_"All right, go to him if you must, but don't fight with him! I need you to promise me you won't."_

He let out a sigh of his own and nodded.

_"Very well, Vinyaten."_

Relief swept over me enough to almost knock the feet out from under me.

_"Can we spar now?"_ I asked, hoping to put him in a good mood before he went off to Irmo.

Tulkas shook his head. _"Perhaps not now, little Maia. I wish to speak with Irmo-diplomatically, let me assure you," _he added with a knowing smile as a grimace shot back over my face.

He looked at me and Glorfindel both now. "I must briefly postpone our fight and pay another Vala a visit," he announced to us.

"Wait, Tulkas, before you go," Glorfindel spoke up quickly, holding up a hand as if to tap Tulkas on the shoulder.

Tulkas half-smiled at him. "Yes?"

"Did Rhodr- ah, _Vinyaten_ and I ever cross paths the last time we were in Valinor? Before she was sent away, I mean."

I snorted softly as I looked at Glorfindel and he shot me a smug smile back. He was going to get closure on this by hook or by crook. More fool me for bringing it up in the first place, I supposed. I waited calmly for Tulkas to laugh a little and say we hadn't, but to my surprise, that wasn't the response we got. A look of vague consternation came back on his face as he glanced at me.

"You don't even remember _that?" _he asked softly.

_That? _What _that? _

I shook my head, thoroughly bewildered now. Glorfindel watched us agog, craning his neck slightly like he was straining his ears lest he miss a single detail of this.

To my surprise, Tulkas smiled a little.

"You _almost_ crossed paths," he said in amusement. "It's quite a story, actually.

"How does it go?" Glorfindel asked, intensely curious now. Tulkas looked at me hesitantly and I gestured that he should tell the story if he wished. He turned to Glorfindel.

"Well, I say you _almost_ crossed paths because Vinyaten was too nervous to approach you." Tulkas' eyebrow twitched a little as he tried to contain his mirth. "I told her to take an earthly raiment, try and win your heart, but you turned her shy, it seemed!"

Our eyes widened in shock.

"What happened?" Glorfindel breathed. Tulkas, looking very entertained by this response, elaborated.

"We were in Valimar one afternoon, sparring outdoors. Stopped where she was mid-block, and nearly got her head knocked off in the process, too, I might add! I thought something urgent had happened, and it turned out she had caught sight of you walking around with Ecthelion, laughing loudly and picking elanor. Oh my, she thought you were delightful! Declared you as splendid and radiant as the sun, which was quite a surprise, since she hadn't ever spoken that way about anyone before."

I chanced a look at Glorfindel, who looked tickled pink at this, biting on his lips a little as he appeared to suppress a happy laugh.

"I don't think she even thought to ask your name," Tulkas murmured half to himself. "She simply named you Aurë, the sunlight." He smiled at me fondly. "Of course, I put her straight, and told her that you were Glorfindel of Tirion."

Glorfindel cooed in delight, putting a hand on his pleasantly pink cheeks, and Tulkas' laugh grew louder.

"Oh, yes, she was positively smitten with you. In fact, Yavanna told me shortly after that that Vinyaten had visited and asked her to make the goldflowers flourish in Tirion. She hadn't ever asked Yavanna for anything, and- apologies, Vinyaten- when I told her what the reason was, Yavanna was so touched that she made them grow wherever you lived from then on."

Glorfindel looked absolutely thrilled to bits now. "Oh, my!" he sang. "No wonder they even sprang up in Gondolin in the winter! That was always such a joy to me." He turned to me and raised his eyebrows at me, saying, "Goodness, Rhodri, I _do_ wish you had come and said hello."

I said nothing. I was shocked and entirely too smug knowing that a self I barely remembered had managed to covertly delight Glorfindel. Achievement unlocked. I suddenly became uneasy after a thought hit me, and I stopped Tulkas before he could continue.

"Look, Tulkas, the whole Maia-falls-for-an-Elf story is touching, but I didn't go stalking him or anything, did I?" I asked warily, hoping dearly that I hadn't turned out to be some love-consumed kook who followed their unwitting romantic interest around like an imprinted duckling.

Tulkas shook his head. "Oh no, quite the opposite, actually," he replied jovially. "You were far too shy to do anything like that. You didn't go near Tirion again until after Glorfindel had left Valinor for Gondolin. Really, Vinyaten, it was almost pathetic, but at least you threw yourself harder into your training than you ever had before, so it wasn't a complete waste."

My stomach dropped for a reason I couldn't quite put my finger on, but I heaved a sigh of relief all the same. Better pathetic than creepy. Pathetic, I could definitely live with. Not that it stopped my cheeks from glowing a little red, especially when Glorfindel rolled his eyes at me playfully.

"Do you remember the last part of the story?" Tulkas asked, the cheerfulness starting to slip off his face ever so slightly.

"I really don't remember any of what you're narrating," I reiterated as I shook my head, my still-churning stomach now even more unnerved by my Vala's fluctuating countenance.

He turned back to face Glorfindel and cracked on.

"Ah, well, we could not intervene in any of the Eldar's wars, of course, but oh dear, after that terrible accident with the Balrog, she was devastated, knowing you'd suffered like that. Broke my Maia's heart, you did, Laurefindil!" Tulkas wagged a finger at an astonished Glorfindel like he was a four-year-old caught trying to purloin a biscuit.

"And of course, you know that it was us Valar who decided you were to be re-embodied fairly quickly as a reward for your valour and to be sent to Middle-Earth as our emissary in the war against Sauron..."

Tulkas stopped again and glanced at me. "You're quite sure you don't remember the last part of this, little one? I'm sure it would sound better coming from you."

I shook my head again, shrugging. "No recollection whatsoever."

Tulkas' lip curled ever so slightly, and I could tell he was very displeased with Irmo. Before I could remind him to take it easy, though, he launched back into his tale.

"Well, when I told Vinyaten of our decision to send you on your mission, she begged me to take some of her strength and endow you with it when she heard that we had had no plans to give you any extra ourselves. If I recall correctly, her specific request was to "make him powerful enough to send enemies fleeing in fear.""

I could not believe what I was hearing. Was that why the Nazgûl fled from Glorfindel? Because I had hassled my superiors to make him intimidatingly powerful?

The wry smile on Tulkas' face broadened as he caught sight of me standing there agape. "We all thought you were quite strong enough as you were, killing a Balrog on your own, but she was so inconsolable that I did it to calm her a little. Perhaps it was well that you did all that extra training after all, Vinyaten, so you didn't feel the deficit too keenly." He winked and laughed.

"Of course, the story ends there, because she was sent away before you could be re-embodied. And to think I'd had a mind to send her along with you to Arda so that she would finally be forced to speak with you, Lord Glorfindel!"

Tulkas seemed to have sensed by that point that my amazement was not of the positive kind, and as I glanced at Glorfindel, who looked like he was about to be hit with an emotional tidal wave, I felt even worse. I had seriously intervened in his life. Glorfindel, the strong and brave Lord of Gondolin, renowned for his power, had gotten the boost from top of the Elves to near-Maia status not by his own efforts, but rather through the meddling of a lovesick Maia, and I could not imagine how confronting that must have been to hear.

As if that weren't enough, I suddenly broke into a sweat as I realised what was causing that unshakeable sinking feeling in me: I had been revisited by that old, old fear of missing my chance with Glorfindel, because after hearing that story, it seemed that that was precisely what had happened. All I had needed to do was listen to Tulkas, make a body for myself, and take the plunge and say hello. Instead, I hid away and sparred, hoping someone else wouldn't snap him up before I worked up the nerve to shoot my shot. Though I knew it was clearly nothing to worry about (we had gotten married after all), it left me feeling irrationally afraid of what could have happened if things had gone any differently, and my stomach bubbled in cold, nauseating fear at the thought of it. The irony of it all was just ridiculous. A psychologist getting cut up over something like this. I'd have laughed if it wasn't so exquisitely painful.

Tulkas smiled kindly at me. "You had best take your husband and sit him down somewhere, Vinyaten," he said as he pat me on the shoulder. "Have something to drink, enjoy yourselves. I'll go and speak with Irmo now."

Before I could croak out a request that he take it easy in the discussions, Tulkas nodded at Glorfindel and me and disappeared, leaving the two of us alone.

Burning with awkward guilt, I turned to look at Glorfindel. His hand was over his mouth now, shoulders heaving ever so slightly, making my internal sirens go off wildly. He wasn't taking this well. Thousands of years as a clinical psychologist, and I wasn't ready for this. To be fair, though, I hadn't ever administered therapy for deeds done in a past life.

At that moment, Glorfindel dissolved into tears in front of me, and only then did I understand just how wretched Elrond must have felt when he had inadvertently made Celebrían cry. I had never felt more of a monster and as I watched him sob into his hands, I knew that I would sooner have been flogged to a pulp with a barbed whip than see another second of it.

Hugely stressed, I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to push my own worries out of my head as I frantically wondered what I could do for him. Like many people, Glorfindel often cried at highly emotional moments, and had always responded well to me simply holding him and speaking softly as I calmly waited for it to blow over. I'd never been the source of the pain before, though. Would he even want me anywhere near him right now? Did he need some time by himself to process all this?

Glorfindel's voice, heavy and throaty, seized my attention immediately.

"Rhodri," he rasped.

I hurried over to him, relieved to have some indication of what he wanted.

"Glorfindel- beloved, I'm so, so sorr-" I began nervously as I stood in front of him, afraid to touch him in case it made it worse. Fortunately, that worry was immediately quelled when I saw him reach an arm out. Quickly and with almost clinical caution, I put my arms around him, rubbing his back with one hand and stroking his hair with the other as he started to bawl into my shoulder.

_Oh god, please don't cry any more,_ I begged quietly, his distress making me alarmingly close to losing my own composure. _I can't stand it. Too many feelings as it is, and now I've upset you, too..._

After what seemed like an eternity in hell, Glorfindel quietened and his breathing evened out. He lifted his head and looked at me with slightly bloodshot and very watery eyes.

"Beloved," I tried again weakly, forcing myself to be clinical in an attempt to detach myself a little. "I know you're upset, and it's all right if you want some time to proc-"

I was silenced again as his thumb rested on my lips.

"I'm not upset," he whispered.

"You're not?" I creaked in disbelief.

Glorfindel shook his head.

"But- but I've done-"

"What did you do, beloved?" he asked gently.

"I intruded, changed your whole identity, and you were never told-" I started jabbering out, wishing there was some way I could adequately apologise.

"Rhodri," he patiently interrupted me. "This was not an act of dominance or malice. You gave a part of yourself to me for the sake of my own safety and comfort, with no expectations, not even the hope that it would turn my heart to you. You gave it and stayed anonymous."

"Glorfindel, you're missing the point," I said in exasperation. "I had no right to intervene! I can't imagine how you must feel about all this!"

"Rhodri, shh," he hushed me softly as he traced his thumb in small circles on my cheek. I quietened instantly, shoulders drawn up in shameful remorse.

"Let me tell you how I feel about it, then. I am a little surprised. Just as you were when I told you how long I had been in love with you." With annoying accuracy, he mimicked one of the many shocked noises I had made on that day, and then chuckled a little at himself before continuing.

"Mostly, though, I'm overwhelmed. Hence the… ah…" he gestured at his tearstreaked face with another wet laugh. "I had always found it a little strange that there were others with more heroic deaths than mine who were never made anywhere near as powerful as me. I knew it wasn't just valour, though the Valar had made it clear that I was to be re-embodied early as a reward for that. And now I know why." He smiled broadly. "Really, Rhodri, as I see it, you loved me twice, and that thought is more touching, and far more rewarding, than I can possibly express."

I didn't smile back. I was still struggling to keep my own ridiculous thoughts at bay, and was relieved I'd held it together enough while Glorfindel needed me to comfort him. Trying to distract myself, I looked down at my shoes and saw a small patch of goldflowers growing by my foot. I stooped down to pick a couple and Glorfindel watched me tenderly as I carefully set them behind his ear.

"Must feel nice to know you weren't the only one waiting and hoping the other would catch on," I mumbled quietly.

"If you saw me in Valimar, I would have been at least one hundred years old, and I didn't die until I was nearly two thousand, so you had quite a long wait," Glorfindel replied pensively. "Granted, I waited some thousand years more than you before we finally spoke about it, but _I,"_ he pointed at himself smugly, "am _by far_ the more forbearing of the two of us."

I scowled playfully, not daring to argue otherwise. An arch smile crossed Glorfindel's face as he leaned in by my ear.

"I must say, though, my love," his voice was low and husky now as his breath tickled my neck, "it is gratifying in the extreme to imagine you getting impatient for my sake."

I raised an eyebrow cynically, trying to belie the fact that my heart rate had started to go through the roof. "Much as I hate to spoil your daydream," I replied in amusement, moving my head back to look at him, "I don't think I would have been getting up to 'that' if I didn't have a body. Any impatience would have been entirely emotional."

"You say it as though that isn't gratifying in itself," he murmured. His eyes shimmered a little as he lifted his head and looked at me. "Fantasising that you returned my affections has been more than enough reference material for me to pleasure myself into oblivion over the years."

My breath snagged a little, and I felt my hair stand on end. The upsetting, wildly ricocheting thoughts in my head were now competing with an arousal that was being very effectively stoked, and my control over both was waning rapidly.

Glorfindel, having picked up on my telltale erratic breathing, bit his lip.

"Shall we go home, my love?" he asked in a breathy voice.

I swallowed hard and nodded. One blink later, we were standing in our quarters again. Thankful for the rapid change of scene, I pushed the emotional things to one side and pulled Glorfindel into an intense, rough kiss that had him moaning into my mouth. The sound was deep, gentle, and incredibly stirring, and gave me the impetus to start undoing his buttons with a deftness that impressed me. Well, it would have had I not been so caught up in keeping my focus on Glorfindel and away from those infernal FOMO thoughts.

That task was made easier when Glorfindel stripped me out of my own upper body garments and ground his hips against mine, turning my attention onto the very prominent arousal that was pressing into me now. As he leaned in and started to kiss my neck, my skin burned and tingled with eager anticipation. He smelled so sweet and salty, and the way his hands clutched me needily, imploringly as his mouth moved up to my jaw, left me almost hazy with heady desire..

Redirecting his mouth to mine, I kissed him slowly and deeply, and his back arched and mouth moved to form my name, his low, smooth groan vibrating on my lips a little.

I moved my head away and watched him look at me with tender, open lasciviousness.

"Tell me what you want, precious one," I panted.

He didn't say anything for a moment, and let his gaze rest on me.

"Tell me you love me," he breathed.

That request was not conducive to me keeping my emotions under wraps. I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, lowering my head to rest against his.

"Oh, I love you, I promise you that," I replied with contrived evenness as I watched his lustful eyes grow wider. "More than you can possibly imagine. I'd give you anything you asked for if it made you happy."

I silently suppressed a thrill as he melted underneath me, trying to hold the electricity coursing through me in check as he pulled me down so that my ear was level with his mouth.

"Take me gently," he pleaded in a hoarse whisper. "Sweetly."

My throat tightened. That was a tall order for someone struggling not to get hit by the feels train. But his face, his voice, everything about him was so entreating and perfectly desirable that I couldn't bring myself to do anything but give him what he wanted.

I smiled, climbed off him, and carefully scooped him up in my arms. "As you wish, beloved," I murmured, whisking him off to our bedroom.

§

Some hours later, while Glorfindel slept soundly, I was still too emotionally shaken up to know what to do with myself. Deciding that slumber was definitely off the cards for me for now, I carefully extricated myself from the tangle Glorfindel and I had finished in and got up.

After throwing on a set of robes and shoes, I took the stairs down and went outside, hoping that a spell in the brisk night air would be enough to snap me out of this ridiculous mood. The nervous tension built up in me, and I would have given anything for Tulkas to come and wear me out with an hour or two of max difficulty sparring.

I kicked a rock on the footpath resentfully. Of course that wasn't going to happen, because he was off tearing Irmo a new catflap. And naturally, in Happy Peaceful Wholesomeness Land, I couldn't just take my pent-up energy out on an inanimate object.

But the emotions were getting to be too much. They had to go somewhere. Worrying I would be in the public eye when they did, I decided to make for my office and lock myself away in there for a while.

As I got to the administration chambers, emotions were already starting to leak out of me as I thought of the Vinyaten- the me-who had thrown herself into her training instead of taking the plunge and introducing herself to Glorfindel. My eyes watered badly. Those goldflowers that she'd made grow like weeds for him, he could have been picking those and putting them in someone else's hair, and the horror of it strangled me.

Relieved, I saw my door up ahead and strode quickly to it, feeling frankly appalled that I was playing host to such ridiculous, irrational cognitions. I knew plain as day there was no rhyme or reason to it, and yet it cut me up so terribly. I hoped that a decent half hour of blubbing would be enough to get it out of my system, and was about ready to give in as I opened the door until a voice from behind me made me jump.

"Rhodri?"

"Christ!" I automatically cursed as I spun around. Elrond was standing there with his hands up, showing his palms.

"Calm yourself, Rhodri, my goodness," he said with a small laugh that evaporated when he caught sight of my face.

"Rhodri, what is it?" he asked, looking aghast as he hurried over to me. "You look _terribly_ upset."

I shook my head. "Nothing, I was just in need of a breather. What's got you up at this time of night?"

"Celebrían is asleep, and so are Tauros and Taureth. I didn't quite feel ready for bed yet, though, so I took a short walk to clear my head."

Elrond put a hand on my shoulder. "I don't believe you when you say nothing is wrong. Come, we'll go into the office and talk about it."

Before I could object, he pushed the door open and steered me inside, closing it behind him.

"This isn't like you, Rhodri," he began, watching me closely. "You've been troubled for weeks now. Did something happen?"

I closed my eyes, willing myself to keep my voice steady. "I can't tell you most of what's going on, I'm sorry."

"Then tell me what you can. Sit here with me." He led me over by the shoulders with him to the large sofa and sat us both down.

I shook my head again. "You're not my psychologist, Elrond," I said to him. I didn't want to talk, but I didn't have enough control of myself to shoo him out so I could wail in peace.

"I don't have to be," Elrond answered gently. "Come now, Rhodri, we are family. You're my own sister. You can trust me with anything."

I sighed. "It's a rather long story," came my weak deflection which, unsurprisingly, was immediately dismissed by Elrond.

"I have all night," he said simply. "You think I'm going leave you like this? Don't be ridiculous. Tell me what troubles you."

I let out a resigned groan and recounted all of Glorfindel's and my encounter with Tulkas that evening, which left Elrond flabbergasted in much the same way as it had left me when I had first heard about it.

"Good grief," he whispered in shock from behind his hand. "I would be horrified if someone were keeping half my life's memories from me, too. This is absolutely-"

"That's not it," I gasped, my throat tightening again as the vague outline of the horrible thought seeped back into the front of my mind. "I've known they weren't there for ages, and while I'd like them back, I'm not in any huge hurry. It was the other thing I told you about."

"What, about you and Glorfindel?" he asked, puzzled. "What's the matter with that? I know you don't care for romance, Rhodri, but even you must admit that it was very sweet."

I shut my eyes hard in a vain attempt to staunch the flow of tears that had started up now.

"I don't think it's sweet," I forced out. "All I can see when I think of that is that-" My throat got too tight to get any more words out as vividly-depicted ideas of too little, too late kept me in a stranglehold.

"Deep breaths, Rhodri. Easy does it," Elrond murmured as he pat my back.

"Twice, I nearly missed my chance with him, Elrond," I choked. _"Twice!_ And I hate the thought! I can't stand it, thinking that I could have finally summoned the courage, or woke up to myself only for it to be _too fucking late!" _I slammed my fist into my knee and covered my face with one hand as I broke down behind it.

Elrond shifted a little closer and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, rubbing them soothingly. "Oh, dear," he said softly. "That's a very familiar feeling. All too familiar, in fact. It was only thanks to you sitting me down and giving me a stern talking-to that I went to Celebrían at all and avoided that, do you remember? It's hard to think about what might have happened had you not said anything. Not pleasant at all, is it?"

I shook my head. "It's _crushing_ me, Elrond," I gasped, kneading my temples hard with my thumbs. "It's so bloody ridiculous. It shouldn't even be in my head, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all evening!"

He sighed a little. "Well, I won't tell you not to dwell on the thought, because that's like asking the tide not to come in. I've found that they do crop up from time to time, reasonable or not, and they certainly pay no regard as to whether we want them there or not. When I don't redirect myself early and those thoughts get particularly invasive, the best thing I can do is to simply find Celebrían and hold her tightly for a while."

He shrugged. "We all get irrational thoughts that upset us. Sometimes it simply works like a valve that needs to be opened once in a while. Cry a little, let yourself be looked after, and then if it happens to Glorfindel, you be what he needs. Simple give and take logic."

"I'd rather not wake Glorfindel," I replied, sniffling noisily and cursing my lack of a handkerchief. "He was sleeping so soundly."

"You would want him to wake you if he were in that position," Elrond returned pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

I scowled. He was right; of course he was right. When was Elrond ever incorrect?

He softened his voice again now. "You should go to him, let him comfort you. For all his noisy, boisterous enthusiasm, he is such a tender-hearted sort, and I think he will appreciate the chance to be a support for you. After all, it's usually him doing the crying and you doing the comforting."

I snorted a little. Yet again, Elrond had a point.

"Maybe I will go to him," I murmured half-heartedly.

"Well, before you do, I wish to tell you two things."

I looked up at him. "Mmm?"

"The first is a little addendum to my advice before: try and head those thoughts off when you first get them so that you don't get so shipwrecked on them that you get this upset."

"Anything you can recommend to help that along?"

Elrond scratched his chin a little. "Well, what works for me is looking at it this way: I can either allow myself to be upset about what didn't happen, or I can choose to be thrilled about my reality. No need to focus on the relief that it didn't come to pass, as even that can be distressing. Just look at this moment, right now, which is that you're married to Glorfindel. Be happy about it. Celebrate it wildly. You certainly have much to celebrate." He beamed at me, and a smile came over my face in kind. He really should have considered going into psychology, I thought to myself as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

"Oh, and the other thing," he continued quickly, as though he had nearly forgotten it, "not that this helps especially, but as your friend and not your psychologist, I am entitled to give you my unsolicited opinion."

I snorted and invited him to proceed.

"I don't think you were ever going to 'miss your chance' with Glorfindel, as you put it. Not the first time, since it sounded like Tulkas was eventually going to force you into a body and throw you at Glorfindel with his own two hands. And as for the second time, well!" he rolled his eyes dramatically. "What a trial that was! Don't forget that Glorfindel at least knew about you that time. And my stars, the torture that lovesick man put me through! One afternoon I was told you had said to him something about the two of you being a good team, and he harped on to me about it, dissecting it in innumerable ways, for an entire fortnight! I told him outright that if he didn't say something to you, I was going to start leaving anonymous notes by your office declaring Glorfindel's infuriating love for you and informing you of your own preposterously oblivious love for him."

I stifled a laugh, which got Elrond chuckling as a consequence before he became earnest again. "To be serious, though, Rhodri, I don't think there was ever a moment where you could have woken up to your feelings about him that came too late. He was as indefatigably bothersome about it in the months before you got together as he was when I first found out how he felt about you. Nearly three thousand years gone without any hint of waning interest." He raised his eyebrows at me. "He wasn't going to leave the matter until you made it expressly clear you would never want anything to do with him like that, and even then, I strongly doubt he would have wanted to try and find someone else. A chance cannot be missed if it never goes away."

Elrond stood up now, holding out a hand for me to take so he could haul me to my feet. "Now, go to him and celebrate a little, for goodness' sake. Enough of this wailing and gnashing of teeth."

Grinning, I grabbed his arm and got swung upright. "I feel terribly sorry for people who don't have an Elrond in their lives," I murmured, my heart much lighter. "Lucky for Glorfindel and me that we do, though. You're a terrific best friend, you know, and not bad as brothers go, either." Chuckling, I clapped his shoulder affectionately and then paused, eyes widening a little as a thought hit me.

"Hey, you wanna get zapped up to the house?"

Elrond looked baffled. "Zapped?" he repeated. "What does that involve?"

"That teleportation thing I was telling you about. I'll get you home in the blink of an eye."

He looked intrigued. "Goodness, how exciting. Yes, if you don't mind, I'd love to try it."

We walked out of the office together and closed the door behind us. Putting a hand on his shoulder, we departed the room and appeared on the staircase just outside his quarters.

"Oh, my word," he uttered under his breath, looking around him with eyes like dinner plates. "That was incredible. Rhodri, do… do you think tomorrow you might be able to, ah, 'zap' us back to the beach for a moment? Can you go that far? Celebrían forgot one of her books she had meant to bring and I would love to surprise her with it."

I smiled and nodded. "With pleasure. Come a couple of minutes early to your session tomorrow and we'll do it then, yes?"

"Excellent, excellent," he enthused. "Most exciting. Oh, speaking of Celebrían, are we to keep tonight's conversation between us? She need not hear about Irmo hoarding your memories and your escapades with Glorfindel if you are not ready to share it."

I shook my head. "No, please tell her about it. Saves me having to do it later. She may even get a laugh out of it."

Elrond snorted.

"Very well. Take care of yourself, Rhodri. I haven't forgotten that there is something else happening under all this, and even if you can't tell me about it, you can be sure I will be thinking about it all the same."

With that, he waved goodnight and disappeared into his quarters.

I sighed shortly and dismissed his words. I was too refreshed in that moment to mire myself in worries of anything else. I marched to the other end of the hallway where Glorfindel's and my chambers were, my gait much more springy after talking (and blubbing) my nerves out. As I went inside, now almost brimming with good humour, I accidentally threw open the door to the bedroom, eliciting a panicked snuffle as Glorfindel was jerked out of sleep and sat upright. He blinked hazily before looking at me standing in the doorway, then looked to his right, where I usually slept, and then back up at me again.

"Rhodri?" he said in confusion. "Why are you dressed and standing in the doorway? It couldn't be later than three o'clock in the morning."

"It isn't," I confirmed as I strode over, stripping down to my underwear as I went. "I was a little upset and went for a walk, and I ran into Elrond on my travels, so we stopped and chatted for a while."

His face flashed with concern as I got into bed.

"You were upset?" he repeated worriedly, pulling me onto his chest and stroking my hair. "What is it, beloved? Tell me what's wrong."

I chuckled and launched into the conversation I had with Elrond, and Glorfindel's grip on me got tighter and tighter the further I got with the story.

"Oh, no, no," he murmured, shaking his head as I finished speaking. "Wake me up next time, my darling. Goodness, I don't want you walking around looking for a place to cry because you're afraid of waking me. Oh, dear me, I hate thinking you felt so badly all on your own." He quickly wiped his eyes and pressed a kiss on my head before letting out a sigh. "Elrond made some excellent points, though, I must say. Right on all counts, really. Celebrate more, hold me tightly as needed, and of course, he was correct in his assessment of my- what did he call it? 'Indefatigable bothersomeness' about you? Mm, I'm afraid as soon as I laid eyes on you in your office, my fate was sealed and I was yours from that instant."

He laughed a little and swept an errant lock of hair off my face. "You know, all those books I filled with memories started with an entry about that first day we met. You'll have to read it sometime."

"I'd rather you read it to me," I admitted. "Any excuse to hear that voice…"

I clapped a hand over my mouth, taken aback by my own sentimentality.

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows at me, shooting me a small, sly grin. "If you take us to the house at Alqualondë, I can get the book and we can read it here now. Or, rather, I can read it to you."

"Excellent idea. Let's go."


	106. The might of Lord Elrond

**Author's note: ** Hello hello! Excuse the delay. I discovered Dragon Age: Origins, and as is often the wont of we autistic folk, when we find something we like, we essentially become engrossed to the point of being completely unreachable. The break has been handy, though, because it's also given me time to consolidate ideas for later chapters. Hope you fine lot are doing well and drinking your water. And even if you're not fine, that's okay. But do please drink water. That stuff's good for you. Recommended by 100% of kidneys worldwide.

Also, just FYI, I was rather nervous about releasing that last chapter. I felt like it was such a gamble revealing that part of Rhodri, but it seems you liked it! That's so great! So as usual, thanks heaps for the feedback. :)

**Mary-Jane: **I know exactly what you mean! The way I learned about personality, it's shaped by two things mainly: your basic traits (stuff that you're pretty much born with) plus your experiences. So it's likely that there will be some changes as more experiences are added. I don't see them being anything drastic, though. I don't think she's really changed a hell of a lot over the story- in fact, I don't think many of the Elves and Maiar have, for that matter, especially given the sheer number of years that have passed and the usually very life-changing events (war, children, loss, trauma, etc.) that all of them have been through. What I do anticipate, however, is a very unpleasant teething phase as she consolidates those experiences and processes them all. Which is fair. 8000+ years of memories, yanno how it is. Couple weeks and it'll settle down, I reckon. Fantastic question, though!

§

"Do we need to put on clothes before going into our quarters?" Glorfindel asked as he sat up.

"Not unless we can reasonably anticipate a stranger being in there," I replied with a shrug. "But you know, it's three in the morning. Someone in our quarters at that time of the evening would undoubtedly be up to no good, and though I am wholly against flashing people, I do believe the shock of seeing us unclad would likely dissuade the wrongdoer from continuing."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. "Mm. We are united in our disapproval of surprise nudity. I would rather we shocked them in a more traditional way, such as brandishing weapons and threatening swift ejection from the premises."

My chin crinkled as a I pondered his words. "Definitely preferable. Now I think on it, though, seeing you naked would more likely be a pleasant surprise than anything else, so it wouldn't serve as much of a deterrent anyway. You really are a feast for the eyes. I don't think a miscreant deserves that sort of joy."

"I was thinking the same about you," he murmured quietly, biting his lip a little as he raked his eyes over me quickly. "Punish them by depriving them of such an exquisite view. If it pleases you, though, you can show _me_ as often as you like."

"Goodness, don't tempt me," I said with a laugh. "Now, are we going to get that book, or are we not?"

"Oh! Right, yes!" Glorfindel's face brightened. "I suppose I could at least throw on a robe."

Moments later, we were back in our bedroom in Alqualonde. Glorfindel walked over to the large chest of drawers and opened the topmost one, and after rootling around in there for a few minutes, he produced a small green book.

"I found it!" he declared happily. "Shall we read it here, or back there?"

"Probably best we read it back there in case we're needed by the offspring, and I can bring it back here when we're finished," I suggested.

Glorfindel nodded in agreement and came back to stand near me. A moment later, we were in Formenos again. Glorfindel threw off his robe with a flourish and marched over to the bed, upon which he threw himself onto the mattress.

"Beloved?" he said from the bed. "Is everything all right?"

I had been caught checking him out as he walked back to bed totally unclad, sprung standing there like a statue with my eyes on his magnificent, shapely-

"Oh yes, mighty fine, thank you," I muttered embarrassedly as I dropped my robe and climbed onto the bed beside him.

Smirking gently, he lifted his arm so that I could rest my head on his chest, cracked open the book, and started to read aloud.

_"Entry one. Occurred 8th Iavas, 1698 S.A._

_The first time I met Rhodri was in her office. I was poorly-rested after a night of bad dreams, and Elrond had told me over breakfast that a new resident had arrived whose profession it was to give counsel in matters of the mind. Her journey to Imladris, he said, had been a long and hard one, and had come after the complete disappearance of everything and everyone in her life up to that point._

_'You know, strange as she is, she really is excellent company, Glorfindel,' he said to me. 'I think you'd like her. Her office is a couple of doors down from me, in the corner there. You should go and say hello. I think she could use a friend like you. Why don't you offer to give her some weapons training? She doesn't know how to defend herself yet.'"_

Glorfindel jittered a little bit. "Ooh, we're coming to the good part, beloved," he enthused. He snuggled me tighter and put a quick kiss on my head before he continued reading.

_"The door was open to Rhodri's office and when I looked inside, I found her at her desk writing busily. Snow white complexion; full, red lips drawn in pensiveness, and hair the colour of smoked darkwood. If I was the summer, she was the winter, and by the Valar, she was perfectly, exquisitely beautiful. I was relieved she was concentrating intently on her work because had she looked up, she would have caught me staring like an Elfling of thirty. After a moment, I forced myself to knock on her door, though I had lost my nerve so much that my knuckles barely hit the wood."_

I felt my face grow a little hot. Being read to aloud is a delightful experience, but it was impossible to deny that it became slightly awkward when one is a main character in the reading material. At the same time, though, I couldn't deny my fascination.

_"Happily, Rhodri had heard my weak knock and saw me hovering by the door. I was surprised by how nervous I felt, but when she looked at me, I couldn't help but smile at her. I could have stood there like a fool and drunk in those keen, mithril-grey eyes forever, but then she smiled back and invited me inside. She stirred so much nervous energy in me, and yet as I sat down and we talked, her warmth and kindness had me feeling safe, comfortable, and at ease right away. I trusted her inherently, and I could not ever recall feeling such a strong desire to be near someone and not leave their side as with her. I was hers whether she knew it or not, and it was delightful."_

Glorfindel leaned back a little and beamed at me. "You see, my love? From the first moment. It says so right here." He triumphantly smacked the book gently with the back of his hand.

My head was swimming at this point. Thoughts were hard to flesh out, and words absolutely failed me. I was so full of a myriad of feelings that I had come full circle and gone numb.

"That all happened in the duration of a few minutes. We hadn't even started talking psychology yet," I murmured hollowly.

Glorfindel chuckled. "A few minutes was all it took, beloved."

"It's… it's an awful lot of trust to put in someone you had only just met," I croaked.

"I felt safe around you," he said simply. "And it would seem that my intuition was not wrong, either."

I smiled and tried to climb on top of him to kiss him, but Glorfindel held me firmly in place with one arm.

_"Ah-ah-ah,_ my Rhodri. Have patience," he murmured, a smug grin spreading across his face. "I want to read a little more to you."

I bit my lip and nodded, settling back down and nestling into his neck.

"Now, if memory serves, one of my favourite entries is in this particular book," he said thoughtfully as he flipped through the pages. "Ah, yes, here it is…"

Predictably, very little of the remainder of our last child-free evening was spent sleeping. Glorfindel stumbled on 'one of his favourite memories' eight more times after reading that initial entry, and as the entries got progressively saucier, so did we. It doesn't take a genius to know what followed after entry number nine.

§

We awoke just in time for breakfast. Once we were dressed, I quickly put the book back, and we made our way downstairs to thank our babysitters and take the babysittees back into our custody.

"How did your sleepover with Auntie Celebrían and Uncle Elrond go, hmm?" I asked the both of them.

"Excellent, excellent," Taureth said as I picked her up, with exactly the same tone and emphasis on the first syllable as Elrond tended to have. I looked at Elrond.

"Two nights and she's talking like you, meldir," I remarked. "I'm impressed. If they start screeching at Glorfindel and me to be more careful when we do perfectly reasonable sporting things, though, I'm afraid we will have a bone to pick with you."

Elrond snorted. "If only you two did perfectly reasonable sporting things," he retorted with a slight hint of despair in his voice.

"You should try reading instead," Tauros advised us delicately as he sat in Glorfindel's arms. "Uncle Elrond likes that much better. Auntie Celebrian can help you with the bigger words if you need it."

I heard a tiny wheeze come from Celebrian's direction, and Elrond looked infuriatingly smug.

"Yes, well, time for breakfast, and then we'll have a think about what to do for the day, hmm?" I said, bouncing Taureth a little on my knee as I spoke. "Maybe Maelind and Maeloth will be on the lookout for a pair of twins to play with."

This was met with great enthusiasm. Bregedur and Daereth showed up shortly after that, and we made for the dining hall in our noisy gaggle.

I sped through my breakfast and once again excused myself from the park-bound crowd to go to our quarters. It was time to conceal all signs that Glorfindel and I had done anything more than breathe in any of those rooms. Satisfied that even Sherlock Holmes would never have guessed the spouse and I had set up an obstacle course the night before, I swanned over to my desk, sat down, and waited for Elrond to turn up.

When he did, as planned, I zapped us over to Celebrian's and his chambers in Alqualonde, and I waited outside their bedroom as he hurried in and grabbed her book. When he emerged victorious with the manuscript in hand, we returned to Formenos.

Sitting down at my desk, my inner voice told me that I had all but established myself as Valinor's first taxi service, and I found it strangely satisfying. Being a taxi driver had been my dream job as a kid, partly because I enjoyed travelling and had longed for a black cab of my own, but also because I was indignant at the laws prohibiting children from operating motor vehicles.

"Rhodri? You look vaguely disgruntled," Elrond said carefully as he waved his hand to get my attention. I could have sworn I heard a pop as my slightly resentful daydream was brought to an abrupt close.

I blinked. "Sorry about that, Elrond," I said, forcing my features into a more approachable arrangement. "Just thinking about the curiosities of transportation. So, how have the last couple of days been?"

"You know, I think it was good that we ended the session when we did," he replied thoughtfully. "I left with enough things to keep me busy, but not so little that I remained comfortable the entire time. Introspection in the manner you've shown me is quite demanding, I must say."

I nodded. "It is, but it does get easier with time. Luckily, you're a very reflective type by nature, so it was really just a matter of tweaking your habits so that your soul-searching actually benefited you."

"There certainly was plenty of reflection to be had. At the time, it didn't really feel beneficial, but it seems that addressing these things is a little like removing a thorn. It seems terribly painful and unnecessary as it happens, but the minute it's over, the benefits become quite tangible."

"That sounds about right," I conceded, humoured. "Can you tell me a little about what you were reflecting over since the last session?"

Elrond nodded and produced the list I had given him to chew over.

"I didn't contribute much to the list, as you'll see," he admitted with a slightly sheepish look that calmed as I smiled and shook my head.

"You don't need to supply an essay. The most important changes go on in our heads. If we were to record everything that went on in our heads, life would become interminably slow."

Elrond laughed softly. "I'm glad you see it that way. I was a tad worried you might think my work ethic questionable."

It took everything in me not to let a loud, almost sardonic "Ha!" escape my lips, and I contented myself with shaking my head again.

"Nothing of the sort, rest assured," I managed to force out before I wrangled my mirth into submission. "So where have your most recent ponderings led you to?"

Elrond pursed his lips lightly. He opened his mouth and paused, as if he were vetting what he wanted to say one last time before he finally let it out. When it seemed satisfactory to him, he nodded once and proceeded.

"There is some dissonance there that wasn't there before," he murmured, the angle on his gently sloping brows increasing as a frown started on his face.

"What sort of dissonance?"

"They… mmm… it's uncomfortable to even say it aloud." He rolled one shoulder back deliberately to ease it out of its formerly tautened state.

"Would you rather write it?"

Elrond shook his head. "No, we've come this far. I think pushing on will help." He drew in a deep breath and let the internal pressure force the excess air out of his lungs again. "I think I feel a little warmer to them than I ought because they- Maglor, especially, were good to me."

He seemed to be outwardly revolted by his words and shuddered a little. "It's disgusting, really. After all that pain and suffering they caused, I still remember happier times with them. Even though Maglor was miserable, he really did try with us, and Elros and I were both very fond of him in the end. We saw the other brothers from time to time as well, and were not on bad terms with any of them."

Elrond's eyes went to me. "I suppose you could call it fraternising with the enemy," he said with a humourless laugh. "I wonder now if perhaps I want to forgive them because of the love I felt for them once."

"What if you do?" I asked quietly.

He froze in position and looked extremely displeased by that question. "Rhodri,_ please!_ I have morals!" he said indignantly.

I nodded calmly. "Of course you do. This very situation has become a moral conundrum for you. That's why I'm engaging with you on it, to help you untangle it a little. If you don't want to tell me the answer to your question, I would like to recommend that you at least think it over on your own."

Reluctantly, Elrond relaxed, wincing ever so slightly. "I'm sorry, Rhodri. I shouldn't have spoken that way," he said after a moment.

I smiled. "Perfectly all right, Elrond. I understand this is very stressful for you, and I appreciate that you feel able to let me know when you are uncomfortable."

His shoulders slackened a little more now, and he leaned back in his chair. "I think I would feel very guilty if I wanted to forgive them purely because of something personal. They committed terrible atrocities toward the Teleri, and to my mother, too, among others."

"And to yourself," I added mildly.

Elrond shrugged. "That seems to be less of an issue for me. Of course it hurts to think of what their actions cost, but again, that love was there, and there seems to be genuine contrition and the wish to rebuild and heal…"

"Well, remember that whatever forgiveness you offer them is only on your own behalf. Your pardon counts only for whatever they did to you, not to the entire Teleri society, not to your mother, and not even to Elros. It begins and ends with you."

His pained expression softened. "Are you saying that it would be an acceptable thing for my judgement to be swayed by the personal relationship I had with them?" he asked, a note of trepidation in his voice.

"I'm not saying anything about what is acceptable and what isn't. I'm not an authority on that. I'm asking you why it wouldn't be acceptable for you to let your relationship with them influence whether or not you forgive them for what they did to you."

"I… don't know," he breathed before looking up at me. "Perhaps because others who were hurt by their actions might think I was disregarding their suffering by offering forgiveness."

"What do you think would happen between you and the brothers if you forgave them?"

"That is a very good question…" he mumbled from behind the fingers that were drumming on his lips. "Do you know, I'm not sure. I would not be averse to reconciling with them. We would never be best friends or anything of that nature, but we could be on positive terms, certainly."

"Do you think those positive interactions would somehow affect others who were victims of their atrocities?"

He shook his head. "No, I do not believe so."

"At what point, then, do others have the right to decide if your forgiving them is right or wrong, when whatever you do with them will not have any impact on them?"

"W-well none, I suppose," he said, voice faltering a little. "Do you mean that they don't have the right to choose what I do in that regard?"

"Well, it's true that they don't. Forgiveness is a very individual thing, and you have the right to extend and retract it as you wish. By that same token, you don't have the right to force others to accept any apology the brothers could offer." I straightened up a little in my chair. "Even so, though, that fact alone is not a sufficient basis for a decision. The real question is if this is what you want, and if so, are you truly ready to extend it."

"Inasmuch as they have done to me, I am prepared to forgive," Elrond answered. His tone was firm, and he nodded once as the words came out.

I nodded back. "Well, it seems you have made your choice. So you know precisely what it is you intend to forgive them for, and you understand the extent of what they have done to you?"

"I believe I might never fully understand the extent of what was done. Losing my mother so early was undoubtedly something that changed my idea of normal, but part of that was her fault, and as for my father, his absence had a large impact. To be truthful, Rhodri, I think the impacts of my parents' actions, or lack thereof, have been far more harmful to me than what the brothers ever did to me."

His jaw dropped at his own statement, and he clapped a hand over his gaping mouth in horror.

"Oh my goodness," he whispered. "I cannot believe I said that."

"Your feelings are valid, Elrond," I reminded him gently. "There is no shame in feeling that way. Neglect has very well-documented harmful effects, and over a sustained period, it does a lot of damage. You have the right to decide what hurt you more, and even if the answer doesn't make sense to others, it is still valid, because it's your life and your experience."

He nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Rhodri," he said after a moment. "I think… I think I'm ready to speak with them."

As Elrond got to his feet, he looked at me, and I smiled at him. "Will you help me?" he asked, his face solemn and nervous.

I nodded quickly and rose out of my chair. "Of course. What do you need?"

"I want you, Glorfindel, and Celebrían to come with me. As my family. Can you do that?"

"Always."

I insisted on us walking out of the house to the park, mostly so Elrond had time to collect himself, and also to give me time to find Celebrian and the people Elrond was supposed to be forgiving. Celebrían turned out to be reading in one of the common rooms downstairs, seemingly waiting for Elrond to finish his session.

"Done for the day?" she asked with a smile as she closed her book and came over to us. She looked at Elrond and upon seeing his face, cocked her head a little to the side in concern.

"Elrond?" she brushed the back of her hand lightly against his cheek before looking at me. "Is everything all right?"

Elrond pressed her hand into his cheek with his own hand and nodded.

The situation was presumably cleared up via their shared inner dialogue, because a moment later, Celebrían nodded and took his hand in hers. Together, we walked out to the park where Glorfindel and Maedhros sat, happily conversing as they watched our small flock of screamy people scrambled through the branches. I picked up the pace a little and went ahead to reach Maedhros first.

I put my arms around Glorfindel's shoulders without warning and he immediately relaxed onto me. "Hello, beloved," he purred.

"Hello yourself," I greeted him back happily before turning to Maedhros, who was smiling pleasantly at us.

"Hi there, Maedhros," I smiled in return. "Do you know where Caranthir, Amrod, and Amras might be right now?"

"They will likely be in the administration chambers," he replied.

I nodded. "Right, well, I'll go and get them. Elrond was hoping to speak with you and your brothers, so if you'll excuse me, I'll return shortly."

I turned back and murmured to Elrond and Celebrían, "Just picking up the other three brothers. See you in a minute."

With a tiny wave, I was gone in a flash and appeared outside the chamber where the three of them sat, examining various pieces of paper. The door was open, and I knocked gently on the frame. They looked up immediately and smiled.

"Ah, Rhodri, excellent!" Caranthir welcomed me warmly. "Come in, come in. Is everything well?"

"Quite, thank you, yes," I replied. "I come on behalf of Elrond."

"Oh? Is there something he needs?" Amrod asked curiously.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," I conceded. "I wonder if I might borrow the three of you for a short while. Elrond is hoping to speak with you three and Maedhros."

The three of them exchanged confused glances, but agreed to go all the same. After a little bit of rustling, the papers were put away in the cabinet in the corner of the room, and we were ready to go.

Deciding that it was better not to surprise them with zapping to and fro before Elrond's monumental speech, I led the brothers in a brisk walk to the park, and with that, we were ready to proceed.

"We came as soon as we heard you wished to speak with us, Elrond," Caranthir said gently when we reached them. "Are you well?"

"Oh yes," Elrond replied with a serene smile. "Better than I have been for some time." He paused and looked at the four brothers, who peered at him with mild trepidation and concern. I had a feeling they were worrying they'd been herded together so that one of their most affected victims could tear each of them at least one new cloaca. Their confusion intensified as Elrond reached out and took Celebrían's hand in his, and he extended his other one for either Glorfindel or me to take. I nudged Glorfindel to do it, since he was the resident hand-holder, and I stood behind Elrond, putting my hands firmly on his shoulders.

"We're here for you," I said to him quietly, remembering the comfort his same simple words had brought to me the day we arrived in Valinor and I had been reduced to a weepy mess. His eyes flickered over to me a moment and his eyes crinkled up the tiniest bit as he blinked once slowly. He was calm, genuinely calm, and that reassured me.

"Do you know, I was not sure what to expect when I came to Formenos," Elrond began carefully as he turned his gaze back to Maedhros and co. "So much time has passed since the Kinslayings, and it was difficult to know for certain what direction its founders had taken since then."

The brothers all winced at the mention of the Kinslayings, their heads lowering a little in shame. Elrond didn't seem to want to allow that, though, and he craned his head slightly to catch their eyes and make them look at him.

"It has been almost a month now, and I can say without hesitation that this is one of the most extraordinary settlements I have ever been in. If ever I needed proof that dramatic change for the better is possible, this would be it. Your labour to bring about a new, better chapter in your lives and the lives of those you led has no doubt been exhausting and fraught with confronting moments."

He paused. I wasn't sure why. Was it to find more words? Was it to give the brothers room to say something? They seemed to be speechless. Whether it was by accident or design was anyone's guess. Elrond watched them carefully, seeming to search them for something, and when he looked to have found whatever he was after, he continued.

"Your misdeeds were costly," he said slowly. "And they will be forever."

Maedhros and Caranthir's eyes closed in a moment of wounded regret, but they forced them open again to look Elrond in the eye. Good. They weren't allowing themselves to pay attention to their feelings any more. They knew they had to give it all to Elrond. I gave them the smallest nod of approval.

"But you have shown nothing but devotion, it seems, to making amends, both in yourselves and in the society you have made here."

"We will spend the rest of our days trying to do so," Maedhros said softly, the other three brothers agreeing with determined but sorrowful nods.

"I know you will," Elrond said with a small smile. "You accepted help to change, and I can see the difference it has made in all of you. You are immeasurably kinder, happier, and more fulfilled than when Maglor took me in. Now, I am only one Elf, but for my part, I would like to offer my forgiveness for whatever impact your actions had on me, and I would also be open to reconciling. I remember some very pleasant times with you, and it would be a wonderful thing indeed for us to be welcomed guests in each other's homes as we once were."

My grip tightened a little around Elrond's shoulders. That was quite the olive branch he was reaching out there. Elrond, noticing my concern, glanced at me, eyes crinkling just a little at the sides, and he nodded gently. He looked calm, content. Like he knew what he was doing. I sighed a little and loosened my grasp.

Across from him, Maedhros, Caranthir, Amrod, and Amras were collectively stunned, completely overwhelmed by the events of the last four minutes. Their jaws moved up and down a little, perpetually trying and failing to find something to say in reply.

Elrond smirked ever so slightly. "Assuming this is agreeable to you, of course."

That broke the drought. A wave of gabbled thanks and proclamations tumbled out of them, and it took some time for them to pull themselves together and respond with something that would pass as a proper sentence. Fortunately, we were blessed with enough smarts to deduce they were keen to start building bridges with him again, and that was that.

Celebrian and Glorfindel, both of whose eyes were leaking like taps, were delivering all manner of hugs and kisses and back pats to Elrond. And just like that, a fairly sizeable part of Elrond's burden seemed to simply... dissipate. My heart was full fit to bursting for him. At last, a taste of relief had finally come.

I gripped his shoulders tightly again, and for once, as I searched for something to say to him, some words actually made themselves available.

"You brave, brave wonder, El," I said to him in my head. "You never cease to amaze me. You so deserve to be happy."

"The best is yet to come," he murmured softly, glancing at me for a moment. "Just like you promised."

I smiled and nodded. Suddenly, I realised that there had been a conspicuous lack of screaming and arboreal careening coming from the park, and turned around to see the four kids standing behind me, quiet as four little mice.

I stooped down to their level, and they all edged over to me cautiously.

"Why is everybody upset?" Taureth whispered to me, eyeing her uncharacteristically teary aunt with concern. The other three nodded and leaned in, listening hard.

"They're not upset," I whispered back calmly. "Uncle Elrond did a very brave thing just now, and it has made us all feel a lot of things. Just about any emotion can make you cry if it's big enough."

"Even happiness?" a surprised Tauros asked.

I chuckled. "Oh yes. My goodness, your father cried his eyes out when he found out we were expecting the two of you and not just one child, he was that happy."

At that moment, Elrond turned around and beamed at the four kids and me.

"Do you know," he said to the children with a twinkle in his eye, "I think some celebration might be in order. A small party of sorts. What do you think?"

They would have celebrated finding a lost sock if the opportunity presented itself. We all knew what they thought about the idea of a party for a big moment.


End file.
